Better Than Blood
by xDreamlessx
Summary: AU. Bella is a sexy lesbian vampire who's insatiable lust for boobs and blood lead her to date as many girls as possible, generally all at the same time. But then she meets Alice, a young girl who's beautiful heart and maddening ass teach her what true love really is.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Story is AU, non-Twilight, no sparkling, etc.**

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Better than Blood

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Chapter 1:

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Moon. Full, fat, beautiful moon, surrounded by stars and hanging so low and large in the black black sky that it almost seemed to throb with paleness. A faint breeze, not cold, the air filled with the scent of my own perfume as the wind stirred locks of my long dark hair. A smile moving over my mouth, lips waxy with lipstick and burgundy red. Perched atop this apartment building where my date was getting dressed below, squatting on the corner of the low brick parapet like a gargoyle in a tiny black cocktail dress. Gazing up at the moon and basking in its radiance as a pleasant heat filled my face. Inhaling the cool night air and closing my eyes and opening them again to gaze again at that big, bright, beautiful moon.

Tonight's the night.

It would be our third date, which hadn't been a long wait, but more than long enough to build a thirst. Her name was Alice Cullen, and frankly, she was the cutest thing I'd seen in a long time. There was simply something about her, something special that went beyond the physical configuration of her face and into a deeper form of inner beauty, a beauty beheld in the brightness of her eyes and the warmth of her smile that could only be the reflection of a kind, gentle, and loving heart. That, and she had a terrific ass. Her picture on the dating site was impressive, but the jeans she wore on our first date—my god. I simply couldn't wait to finally sink my teeth into her, and on a night like this, with such a moon so high in the sky - it was going to be perfect.

It had been impatience that drove me to her rooftop and it was impatience that drove me back down again, crawling across the wall like a gigantic spider until I came to her bedroom window. Below was only an empty alleyway, nobody around to look up and witness the woman suspended supernaturally against the bricks, upside down, her hair not hanging, her dress not drooping. Peeping in the corner of the window where—

Gasp.

She had just gotten out of the shower and she was parading about the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel as she set out a dress to wear on the bed. The dress was red, the color of love, passion, blood, and I smiled at her choice. So symbolic, so subtextual. So _perfect_.

I continued to watch her, my eyes bright and dark and roaming her slim legs under the hem of the towel as she moved to a dresser drawer and sorted through the things inside it. I was so distracted by the prettiness of her thighs and calves that it didn't register to me what she was looking for until she straightened up with a tiny, sexy, red lace thong in her hands.

My heart stopped. Well, technically, my heart didn't beat at all, but that did nothing to mitigate the bolt of delight that struck me in my chest. Her choice of underwear was even more perfect than her choice of dress. Red was always lovely, of course, but a thong—a skimpy lace one at that—suggested she was indeed prepared to put out tonight. To be honest, I hadn't been entirely sure she would be ready. She was quite a sweet and innocent sort of girl and we only had two dates. But if her choice of underwear confirmed anything, it confirmed that—

My train of thought cut off as her towel hit the floor.

I had been stalking her for a week, but it was the first time I'd seen her naked. Women simply don't spend as much of their day naked as you'd want, and certainly not in places where you could easily spy on them. But this was worth the anticipation. Even with the towel you could see her body was reasonably bodacious, but without it—dayum. My eyes fairly glazed over at the perfect shape of her breasts, not large, not small, just perfect, and so plump and soft that it almost would've broke my heart if only I had a heart to break. Such delicious-looking little things—and her ass! She had turned slightly and she was stepping into her panties, pulling them up along her legs until the waistband settled at her hips and the string settled between her taut, round, beautiful little buttocks.

Then she gave a wiggle to get them just right.

That slightly squirm of her hips almost undid me. The excitement that washed over my body rendered me nigh weightless and the only thing that kept me from peeling off the wall and fluttering into the alley below like a broken bird was centuries of finely honed self-control. I stared, my lips parted. The window was in danger of being fogged up or perhaps broken in a mad frenzy to get at this dear girl's ass. It was maddening, absolutely maddening. If that ass didn't have teeth marks in it by tomorrow morning, I'm not a ravenous lesbian vampire. But she was turning away now, turning to her dress on the bed, and as pretty as the dress looked, I couldn't help feeling a stab of sadness that her body was about to be covered.

But still.

Tonight.

It took some effort to rein in my incredible lust but I managed tolerably enough to continue watching her until she was ready. I watched her slip on her dress and zip it up. I watched her adjust her breasts in the bodice. I watched her step into her shoes, red like her dress, perfect pumps to accentuate her perfect body. I almost lost control again when she disappeared again into the bathroom, impatience clawing at my chest like something that wanted out, until she came back out again in full makeup, lipstick and mascara, eyeshadow, a bit of blush. She was one of those rare girls who looked amazing without makeup and even more amazing with makeup. Like a perfect china doll. She was twenty two years old but she hardly looked a day over seventeen. The kind of girl who had no idea how pretty she really was. The kind of girl who almost made me wish I was actually capable of falling in love. But alas, for centuries I had been cursed into a state of an ever-permeant lust that had long ago swallowed my heart whole, and honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.

By now she was almost late for our date and getting a little frantic. She was stuffing her purse with things she might need, cellphone, keys, pepper spray—which meant I ought to make extra effort not to assault her in the middle of the restaurant—and looking about as if to remember if there was anything she was forgetting. Her eyes drifted to the window and I retracted a bit out of view. But she didn't see me and when I looked again through the window she had left the room. I smiled and felt a flutter in my chest.

Finally.

Flipping backwards, I leapt down from the wall into the alleyway below and landed perfectly in my tall black stilettoes like some action hero bimbo, lowering into a crouch before raising slowly and adjusting my hair and dress. I came sauntering out of the alley and around to the front of the building where I installed myself beside the glass doors and waited for my beautiful date. She came out in a bit of a tizzy, the door swinging closed behind her, worried she might be late. I let my eyes linger on her back for a moment, watching how the thin red silk flowed against her curves, and then I lifted my eyes with a smile and said:

"Hey, cutie."

She spun around, giggling at the surprise with a hand over her heart as if to keep it from flying out of her chest. "Oh," she said. "There you are. Sorry I'm late."

"No problem, I was just about to call a cab. Ready to go?"

"Yep," she said. "All set."

She swayed on the spot, visibly hoping I would notice her dress, and I smiled and said: "You look incredible." Not as incredible as the peep show through the window, but incredible nonetheless.

"You too," she giggled, and placed a kiss on my mouth.

The kiss was only a brief brush of her lips—we were on a public sidewalk, after all, and we still only barely knew each other—but it lit a spark inside me that almost made me growl. The scent of her perfume was already teasing me inside my head and the scent of her body, her blood, was stirring in my stomach. The hunger had already been wetted by the taunting display of nakedness and I was very seriously tempted to simply drag her upstairs by the hair and toss her onto the bed and devour her whole. But instead I took my phone out my purse and called a cab.

The restaurant was called L'Artusi. I told her about it in the cab, about the exceptional service and marvellous food, but the thing that impressed her most was how I could actually pronounce it properly. She tried a few times herself and couldn't come close. It was charming. On our first date she spent about ten minutes telling me how sexy my British accent was while trying to mimic it with similarly amusing results. Her tongue was obviously not suited to linguistics but I'm sure we could come up with some other uses for it, once I finally get her head between my thighs.

It wasn't until we arrived at the restaurant when she was actually impressed by the restaurant itself. The interior was warm and filled with the scent of expensive Italian food and a low glow of candlelight illuminated couples at tables, bottles of wine, a redwood bar in the corner. A dim atmosphere, quiet with string music in the background. She was holding my arm and she actually seemed slightly in awe of how romantic it was as the waiter led us to our table.

We sat, me speaking to the waiter, her still looking about. I ordered some wine, a particularly expensive bottle, and she looked a little nervous as the waiter went away.

"Wow, this place must be so expensive," she said. "I wasn't expecting a place like this on a third date. I'm not even sure if I can afford it."

I dismissed her concerns with a gallant wave of my hand. "Don't worry about it, I'm paying."

"Oh, I can't let you do that."

"Of course you can, it's my pleasure," I told her. "I've been dying to take you here ever since we first met. It's my favourite restaurant in town."

The waiter arrived with the wine and she fell quiet for a moment, smiling as the glasses were poured. The waiter handed us menus and went away again. She rose her eyebrows at the prices column.

"Wow," she said. "You eat here a lot?"

"Well, I wouldn't say a lot. And never as early as the third date."

"Really? What's so special about me?"

I looked up from the menu and bestowed upon her a smile filled with as much wholesome admiration as I could muster and said:

"What do you think?"

Her ass, of course. But she giggled as if she thought I meant her eyes. Or even her personality, the silly thing. But it was a successful compliment and I looked back down at the menu.

"So," I said. "What are you getting?"

"I don't know, I'm so hungry."

"Mmm," I agreed, flicking my eyes at her the way a lizard flicks its tongue. "Me too."

It took a while to decide what to order but soon we were eating. I had little appetite for human food but it wasn't exactly unbearable. Just tasteless. I sipped my wine, wistfully reflecting on how the red liquid could almost pass for blood. Almost. The hunger was getting stronger and it didn't help the way she moaned in pleasure with each bite and licked her lips and giggled and chatted on in that lilting voice of hers.

Soon we were finished with dinner and relaxing with some more wine. I was tempted to avoid mentioning dessert at all so that we could skip to the real dessert, which would be a slice of her sexy ass, but I had spent so many years pretending to be a perfect date that it was almost real by now. So I offered, and she demurred, and I offered again, and finally we ordered an expensive chocolate thing that was bound to make her even wetter than the smooth and elaborate flattery I'd been showering her with all night.

She sighed while we were waiting, her face positively glowing in the soft uplight of the candles, and then she turned her radiant smile to me. "You know, I gotta admit," she said. "I find it so awesome that you're an actual model. It's one of the first things that caught my eye on your dating profile."

"One of?"

"Well, maybe I noticed your picture first. Does that make me shallow?"

"Not as shallow as noticing my occupation first."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," she giggled.

I smiled and set down my glass. "What do you find so fascinating about it?"

She shrugged a shoulder, still smiling so brightly. "It took me by surprise, that's all. It made me wonder why a woman like you would need to sign up for online dating in the first place."

"A woman like me?"

"Well, sure. Couldn't you date anybody you wanted?"

I resisted the urge to snort haughtily. Of course I could. And I generally did. But it probably wouldn't be very wise to admit that.

"Well, not exactly," I said. "I'm only interested in girls, and girls I meet generally tend to be straight."

"Oh, right," she said, as if that made a lot of sense. "I didn't think of that. I guess it would be easier to find someone online. It's still pretty incredible, though. I never thought you'd actually reply to my message. And even when you did, I never thought I'd like you."

"How come?"

"Well, you know."

I smiled and leaned my elbows on the tablecloth in order to bunch my breasts together between my arms. "You thought all models are dumb superficial bimbos?"

"No," she said. Then she smiled and added: "Well…yeah."

I chuckled. She was basically right, although I flatter myself that I had managed to accumulate at least a little intelligence in my centuries of traveling the world.

"Seriously, though," she went on, "you're just not the kind of woman I ever imagined dating."

"I'm just a regular person."

"You don't seem so regular," she said, her eyes lingering over my flawlessness.

"Well, neither do you, to be honest," I said, still leaning on my elbows, smiling, watching her. "I think you're a lot more beautiful than you give yourself credit for."

She blushed prettily, glancing at the swell of my breasts. A small giggle escaped her. "I still feel kind of inferior," she said. "It's almost like dating a celebrity. After our first date I did a search for you online, and—wow. I was just blown away. Some of those things you were wearing…I couldn't believe a woman like you was interested in me."

"Oh dear," I said, unleaning from the table in mock mortification. "You didn't see that topless shoot I did a few years ago, did you?"

"No, no, nothing topless," she said, laughing at my joke. Well, she thought it was a joke. "But I saw the shoot you did in Paris, for that new Versace line. It's funny, because I've always dreamed of being a designer. I've actually been saving to train in Milan one day."

"Really, wow. I have a lot of contacts in the industry, I'd love to help you out."

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

She giggled again and her face was practically glowing from the raw wattage of her smile. The poor thing was seriously enamoured with me. It was almost enough to make me feel guilty. She'd be so crushed if she knew my interest in her extended to little beyond her ass.

Dessert finally arrived and her eyes lit up as she laid them on this chocolate tower of cake and fresh raspberries all melted over with steaming chocolate sauce. It was served on a single plate for four people, which meant we were going to have to indulge.

"Wow," Alice said, staring at it. "It looks so perfect. I almost don't want to touch it."

I smiled at the notion. I felt a similar way about girls like her, but in the end, defiling them is half the fun—for both of us.

"Come on," I said, shuffling my chair closer to hers. "Let's share."

We both had forks and with smiles we dug them into the cake and each took a bite, spilling the chocolate sauce onto the plate and spoiling the overall arrangement.

Dessert was wonderful as dessert often is, filled with lots of giggling and eye catching, and afterwards we engaged in a flirty repartee over whether or not she was allowed to pay. Her half of the check was quite substantial and I was surprised by how much of a fight she put up. I hadn't expected her to be so stubborn but as her voice became more serious—as if she'd feel guilty if she let me pay—I found myself obliged to yield. And so I accepted her cash, quite impressed at her spirit of independence, and paid the difference with my creditcard.

It was the one anomaly in an otherwise perfect date but I didn't let myself dwell on it. For the night was young and many more delights yet awaited us. Unfortunately it would've been poor form to rush her home and rip off her dress, so instead we went for a stroll in a nearby park where we could—ugh—talk even more.

It was a rather warm night and neither of us needed a coat. The park was completely empty, just the two of us, arms linked, strolling along the paved lane and under a bridge where the clicks of our heels echoed under the arches. She sighed as we came out the other side and gazed up at the sky. I gazed as well. That moon. That big, fat, throbbing moon.

"Wow," she said, blinking at the myriad stars winking in the big black vault above us. "It's really a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Mmm," I murmured, and I actually had to swallow away the thickness in my throat. "I love full moons."

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

Something downcast in her voice pierced my moon-glazed haze and I turned to her. "Hey, what's the matter? You seem nervous."

She stopped walking. We were underneath a tree with a bough overhanging the lane that cast a rustling shadow over our shoulders and dresses. She look hesitant but determined—kind of like how she looked when she insisted on paying her half of the check.

"Well," she said. "It's just… it's getting late, and…"

"And what?"

"The truth is…I'm not sure if I'm ready to have sex yet."

I blinked at her. Something inside me was shrivelling up and dying.

"I don't understand," I said. "Are you saying you're a virgin?"

"No, no, no, not a virgin," she said, half chuckling. "Nothing like that."

She seemed reluctant to go on. My throat had tightened to the point where I had to cough to clear it.

"Then, um…it's just me you don't want to sex with?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "It's just…"

She hesitated again and this time I was too lost to urge her to continue. She sighed and looked at me apologetically with the shadow of leaves stencilled across her face like a black veil.

"I'm sort of on the rebound," she explained. "It didn't go well with my last girlfriend. It wasn't even her fault, really, we were just in two separate places in the relationship. I was in love with her, and she, well…wasn't."

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"The point is," she went on, "I'd hate to be hurt like that again. And if there's one thing I've learnt about myself, it's that I'm not the kind of woman who can have sex without becoming attached. Which means I need to know this is serious…before we go any further. I mean, I still don't really know you. We met on the internet, and…"

She trailed off, hoping that would be enough. And it was. I understood quite clearly.

No ass for me tonight.

To say I was crushed was an understatement. I was devastated. Shattered. In all my three hundred years, I had never had such bad news. How could this be possible? I had been waiting for it all night. Longing for it. _Needing_ it. Dimly, I realized I had never wanted a woman so much as I wanted this one right now. I was so hungry and thirsty and—

"You're disappointed," she said.

I was pretty sure I hadn't been crying but perhaps I had lost track of my facial expression for a moment. I regained it now, though, and quickly shook my head, even forcing my mouth into a smile. "No, no, no, it's fine," I said. "I completely understand."

She looked at me. She gave a weak smile. "But you _are_ disappointed, aren't you?"

She seemed to sense I was faking, but she wasn't mad, so I allowed a little of my actual feelings to the surface. "Well, maybe a little," I admitted, flickering my eyes at her sexy body in her sexy red dress. "I mean, I really like you, and…"

She looked aside shyly, suddenly looking very young and girlish. I could tell that she would probably cave if I even made the slightest move on her but I couldn't do that to the poor thing.

"But listen," I said, taking her hands and drawing her eyes to mine. "I'll admit, my own attitude on sex may be a little more casual than yours, but I'm perfectly capable of respecting your feelings. Above all, it has to be right for both of us. Or it won't be right for either of us. Right?"

As corny as it sounded, I was actually very sincere. Nothing turned me on more than consent and mutualness. And the way her face lit up suggested she probably felt the same.

So, yep.

No ass tonight.

"Thanks," she said, relieved. "That really means a lot to me. To be honest, I would've changed my mind pretty quick if you were even just a little pissed off."

I suspected as much. Dammit. But I chuckled and rubbed her hands a little. "That won't be necessary," I said. "But that doesn't mean we can't fool around a little, hm? Come on, let's sit down."

There was an iron bench nearby, between two lampposts, and we walked toward it with our hands clasped and sat down. I took her face in my hands and smiled with a hidden sadness at how cute she was. Such a pity. I had really been looking forward to rubbing my pussy all over that pretty face. She blushed anew at the scrutiny and offered a tentative smile.

"Are you sure you don't mind waiting a little bit?" she asked.

"No," I said, smiling to make her feel better. "I can tell you'll be worth it."

It was the right thing to say and she wasted no time pressing her lips to mine. My heart gave a sullen throb but I couldn't deny that even just a kiss of her soft and sensual lips was a true delight. I parted them with my own and deepened the kiss with my tongue. She moaned a little and even allowed my hand a liberty or two up her dress, stroking the outside of her thigh, higher and higher, until I was reminded of the underwear she had chosen to wear tonight. That lovely red lace thong. I toyed with the waistband of it and fought very hard not to burst into sobs. How could she wear such a taunting pair of panties without any intention of taking them off? Underneath that innocent exterior was a saucy vixen indeed. I would have her eventually, oh yes. The concept of abstaining from sex for emotional reasons was mostly lost on me, but I understood the art of making a girl happy, and I would wait however long it took for her to be comfortable. Ripened fruit is the sweetest, and I could tell simply from the taste of her mouth that she would truly be worth the wait.

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	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you very much for the reviews. :) **

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Chapter 2:

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It was still early by the time I got back to my apartment. Not even midnight. The sweetness of Alice's mouth yet lingered on my lips and I was in a dour mood to say the least. I hadn't fed in five days. In two more I would truly begin to become desperate. It wasn't likely Alice would be ready any time soon which meant I would have to find someone else. The thought filled me with poutiness. I suppose I could take a cab to any bar in the city and select any woman I wanted to bring home and feed from but I didn't want any other woman. I wanted Alice. Cute, adorable, delicious little Alice.

I huffed to myself and continued down the balcony toward my apartment. I lived in a modest apartment block down by the bay, with a view over the water. I had my purse in my hands and I was fishing for my keys when I noticed someone at the end of the balcony, leaning with her elbows on the railing and gazing down at the heated swimming pool that lay shimmering in the moonlight in the terrace below. I even recognized her. Not by name but I had seen her before, the rebellious and presumably misunderstood teenager who lived a few apartments over and routinely screamed at her parents loud enough for the whole complex to hear. Dark haired, native American, dressed in jeans and combat boots, a leather jacket, scruffy and boyish. An iron hoop in her right ear, a pride bracelet on her wrist. One didn't need to guess the source of contention between her and society. She heard the click of my heels on the floor of the balcony and glanced and did a double take at my dress. She had a cigarette in her hands and the smoke came very slowly out of her mouth as she stared. I smiled at her.

"Hi," I said.

She exhaled and tossed her chin in a butch-like manner. "Hi."

I continued to my apartment door. Her eyes followed me discreetly. She was stationed quite near my apartment and as I was unlocking the door I caught a whiff of what she was smoking. "Is that a joint?" I asked.

She gave me a look full of dark eyes and dark eye makeup. "Is it any of your business?"

Well. Whatever she was smoking certainly hadn't mellowed her out.

I let the door swing open but I didn't go inside. I wandered closer to the petulant youth and sniffed at the air tentatively. She seemed surprised. The scent of marijuana was unmistakeable, as was the scent of her blood and budding excitement. I smiled and looked at her body. Trim, athletic. I lifted my eyes to hers and gestured with my hand for her to give me the joint.

She hesitated, smoke leaking slowly from her nose. There was suspicion in her eyes but something else as well, a brief flash of vulnerability, the desire for acceptance, a hint of attraction. She put the joint back to her lips and took another long drag and then she offered it to me. I took it from her and inhaled, letting the smoke smooth out my own frustrations.

"I had a date tonight that turned out rather…disappointing," I told her, in response to her silent inquiries after my dress and demeanour.

"What happened?" she asked.

I blew the smoke into the air. "She didn't put out."

Her lips parted slowly at the feminine pronoun and her pulse began to quicken. She seemed to look at me all over again, her eyes flittering over my chest. I took another hit of the joint and passed it back to her, making sure my fingers brushed hers. She lifted the joint to her mouth shakily and I leaned on the railing and looked down at the pool, at the moonlight glistening off the surface of the water.

"So what are you doing out here so late?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "Just had to get out of the house."

"How come?"

"Fight with my mother."

"What about?"

"Same old shit," she muttered.

I glanced at her. I could guess the fight probably had something to do the fact that she was an obnoxious baby-dyke with a bad attitude while her mother was likely a little more conservative but she seemed reluctant to admit that.

By now the joint was little more than a nub and I took it from her, had one last puff, and stubbed it out on the railing of the balcony. I glanced up at the moon, still so big and white and high in the sky. The hunger was beginning to stir again in my stomach but it wasn't the same hunger as the hunger for Alice. This was a different hunger, rueful, petulant, like a child who is denied dessert and must eat their vegetables instead. But powerful, desperate, _starving_.

I glanced again at the girl. Her demeanour had changed since I first approached her, her edge softened, her eyes rounder, more bright. Either the weed had done its job or she was more than a little enthralled by my dress. I didn't think she would be too difficult but that didn't mean it was a good idea. She was obviously underage and even if she wasn't it probably wouldn't be wise to get involved with a neighbour. I generally kept my dates at a distance so that they were easier to let go whenever the time came. I rarely dated friends, co-workers, people I might run into in everyday life. But still.

I looked at the open door of my apartment and turned back again. I smiled and gestured with a tilt of my head.

"Wanna come in for a minute?"

Her eyes lit up but she quickly hid it. "Why?"

"Better than standing around out here, right? I might even have a beer I could let you have. Come on."

I held open the door for her. She hesitated, sensibly enough. After all, despite her badass imagery she was still a teenage girl and I was a stranger. Who knows if I could be trusted? Why, I might even bite her neck and drink her blood.

"Don't worry," I said, giving her a reassuring smile laced with just a hint of daring. "I won't bite."

She chuckled once and looked out over the pool shyly and then she shrugged and entered the apartment.

I closed the door after us and led her into the kitchen area, a small stainless steel section of the apartment cornered off with a breakfast counter and a short row of stools. I didn't keep much food in the apartment but I generally tried to make sure I had a supply of snacks and beverages for guests. I didn't usually offer alcohol to teenage girls, of course. That would be immoral and irresponsible. And while I certainly lack any kind of morals, I do however try to be responsible for the sake of blending in. But in this case I thought it would be just the thing to impress a young rebel like her.

She had sat on the edge of a stool and I could feel her eyes on the seat of my skirt as I opened the fridge and bent to the bottom shelf where I kept the low calorie beer. Or shall I say lite beer. Too bad they couldn't have thought of a cuter way to spell beer, too. I twisted off the cap for her and placed the bottle on the counter. She still seemed a little tense but she was smiling as well, as if she knew she shouldn't be here and that was exactly why she wanted to be.

"Thanks," she said.

I touched her shoulder to say you're welcome. Ooh, contact. I could almost feel her shiver. I smiled at her nervousness and said, "Make yourself at home, I'm going to slip into something more comfortable."

She nodded and took a sip from the bottle. I went past her and into my bedroom in the back.

First thing I did was unzip my dress and slip it off before pushing down my special black lace panties—panties I had chosen specifically for my dear date's enjoyment this evening. Oh, what a disappointment tonight had turned out to be. Alice, Alice, Alice. You silly thing. Commitment indeed. Shaking my head, I opened a dresser drawer and slipped on a tanktop and a plain pair of sleepshorts. I suppose I should be happy that I had a teenage girl with a penchant for bad behaviour waiting in my apartment but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my heart—and other things—set on Alice. Ah, well. At least I wouldn't go hungry.

Once I was dressed, I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I was pretty sure I wouldn't need make up. I had other tactics in mind. Finally I grabbed my grooming case, a suede leather satchel filled with all manner of potions and lotions and little chrome tools, and went back out into the apartment.

The girl had wandered from the kitchen and I found her snooping in the living room with the bottle in her hand. The décor was mostly white and black. White plush leather sofa. Glass coffeetable. There was a largescreen plasma on one wall and on the other wall there was an array of photographs of myself taken from various photoshoots, wearing dresses and swimsuits and lingerie and posed on beds or beaches or blank white studios, many of them quite risqué with my legs showcased and my back arched and lusty looks levelled into the lens. The girl was looking them over and she startled slightly when I came in as if she'd been thinking something naughty.

"Hey," she said. "Cool place."

"Thank you."

She looked at my outfit, at my bare midriff and bare legs and my large breasts bundled into my tight tanktop. She gulped and waved the bottle at the wall of pictures.

"Is that you?"

I smirked: no, it was my identical twin. But she didn't seem the type of girl to appreciate sarcasm, so I simply nodded. "Mmhm," I said. "I'm a model. I have a lot of meetings here, so this wall is sort of like my portfolio."

She nodded. In truth, I mostly just liked to look at myself but admitting that would be vain beyond even my own standards. She took another sip, lifting the bottle high, and I realized she was almost empty.

"Want another beer?" I asked her.

She grinned, as if she wasn't sure if she should, and then nodded. "Okay."

I took the bottle from her and went back to the kitchen, leaving her in the living room. Two beers and a joint ought to give me a fairly good head start into getting into pants, although I doubt she would've been much challenge even dead sober. Not like Alice. That damnedable vixen.

I got another bottle out the fridge and this time I fetched down a glass from a cupboard to pour it. Drinking something as hideous as beer was bad enough but drinking it out of the bottle was more man-ish than I was prepared to put up with. I bought the glass back into the living room and handed it to her.

"Here, I put it in a glass for you," I said. "Ladies shouldn't drink out of bottles."

She snorted as if I was stupid. I smiled.

"Ladies shouldn't snort, either," I told her.

"I'm not a lady," she said, and I was very glad she didn't belch to prove it. She sipped from the glass and I sat on the sofa.

"Well," I said. "I am a lady. In fact, it's a particular point of pride with me."

I had set my grooming case on the coffeetable and now I unzipped it and took out the moisturizer, propping one of my feet onto the edge of the table as I flipped open the cap and squirted some of the lotion into my palm.

"You don't mind if I moisturize my legs, do you? A body like mine requires an absurd amount of care and maintenance. My agent would kill me if she knew I wore a short dress tonight, exposing my skin to the elements. Even just a small bruise could cost me a month's work." I was exaggerating, of course. Vampires don't bruise and my body would remain faultless no matter how well I took care of it.

She had sat on the sofa beside me and she was watching as I rubbed the lotion into my thigh, my shin, my calf. My entire leg was bare and she seemed somewhat blinded—and turned on—by the pure whiteness of my skin.

"You do that every night?" she asked.

"Mmhm, and in the mornings, too."

"Wow," she said, with another unladylike snort. "I'd hate that. I hate to even brush my hair."

"It's a lot of work, yes, but well worth the effort." I had moved onto my other leg, propping my foot on the coffeetable and spreading the lotion onto my thigh and rubbing it in with a lavish massage, caressing myself sexily for her discreet enjoyment. I looked at her and smiled. "Wouldn't you agree?"

She blinked at the display of leg there. She didn't seem to understand the question right away and then she gave a jerky nod. "Uh, sure," she said. "I guess."

I smiled and resumed my ablutions, giving her a moment to observe and wonder if I was coming on to her and if I was, what was she going to do about it? She sipped her beer, swallowing very tightly. I glanced at her, still rubbing the lotion into my shapely white thigh.

"So," I said. "What happened with your mother? Must've been pretty serious to drive you out of the house."

She shrugged it off. "We fight sometimes, that's all. She can't handle that I'm gay and every now and then she has to be a bitch about it."

She was watching for my reaction at the word gay. As if I hadn't guessed. I made a sympathetic face at her predicament.

"That's too bad," I said. "It's sad when parents have trouble accepting their own children."

"Yeah. As soon as I'm eighteen, I'm outta there. I don't think I can take her bullshit much longer."

"I know how you feel."

"Yeah, sure," she said, with that typical teenage belief that everything was worse for them in particular.

"No, I do," I insisted playfully. "My mother was the same way. She tried to bludgeon me with a vase when she first caught me with another girl."

She tried not to smile at the absurdity of that. "Seriously?"

"Mmhm. She wanted to send me to an insane asylum."

"Wow, what a stupid bitch. Asylums don't even exist anymore."

I smiled and closed the cap on the moisturizer. That was true but back in the eighteenth century when I was a girl asylums were all the rage.

She sipped her beer, watching me as I wiped my hands and fitted my things back into the grooming case. There seemed to be something on her mind and I wasn't sure what it was until she spoke.

"So, are you…?"

I raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Gay, I mean."

"Oh," I said with a chuckle. "Yes. Yes, I am."

I leaned back on the couch to watch her reaction. She seemed impressed by the dignity with which I had simply said it. And slightly skeptical as well, as if she didn't believe it was possible to be gay without being completely emo about it as well.

"Really? I mean, I know labels suck, but…"

"I don't mind labels," I said. "I'm a lesbian."

I slipped in the l-word in a sort of purr, letting the implication linger over her that I was the kind of woman who liked to lick other women. My vampire hearing could detect her heartrate beginning to elevate and I could almost feel the heat of her blush from here. I even felt a thrill myself.

"Wow," she said. "I never thought you were actually… I mean, I saw you with a girl in the pool once, and… I wasn't stalking you or anything, I just…"

She waved a hand awkwardly, the half empty glass sitting in her lap. I smiled and realized I didn't even know her name yet.

"My name's Bella," I said. "Nice to meet you."

"Thanks. I mean, Leah. My name's Leah."

She shook my hand. I clasped it just a moment too long, enough to make her both awkward and excited at the same time. When she took her hand back, she didn't know what to do with it. I watched her, smiling.

"How old are you, Leah?" I asked.

"Eighteen. Why?"

"Just curious. But didn't you say you'd be leaving home as soon as you turned eighteen?"

"Well, I'm seventeen. Almost eighteen."

"Why'd you lie?"

"I don't know."

I smiled. I knew why. Because she wanted to present herself as available. After she admitted she was only seventeen, she seemed disappointed. Luckily for her, however, I rarely let ethics and legalities deter me from a nice meal.

"Listen," I said. "I don't know the exact situation with your mother, but I can't imagine she'd be very pleased if you went home high and half drunk."

She grinned. "Yeah right. It takes more than a couple beers to mess me up."

"Either way, why don't you spend the night here? You can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch. I think perhaps both you and your mother could use some time too cool off, don't you?"

She began to look suspicious again. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Could you text your mother and tell her you're staying with a friend?"

"Yeah, but…why are you trying to help me?"

I shuffled closer to her on the couch, inappropriately close, and placed a comforting hand on the leg of her jeans. "Because I know what you're going through," I said softly to her face. "I know what it's like to be all alone with nobody to understand or make you feel better. I just want to help you, that's all."

I gave her thigh a suggestive caress. Her voice came out thick.

"Oh," she said. "I thought you were trying to fuck me or something."

I smiled at her, teasing a kiss, making her want it. Then I unhanded her thigh and rose to my feet.

"You wish," I said with a smirk. "Come on, it's getting late."

She seemed confused but willing to go along with it. I could've made my move on her right then on the couch but her last comment had the tone of a test, a tentative half-offer to reveal my true motives. Refusing to take the oh so tempting bait right away would lull her even deeper into a false sense of security. As with Alice there was nothing more attractive to me than consent and unlike Alice this one still hadn't quite made up her mind, one way or the other. She was teetering far too close to the edge to risk frightening with an ill-timed advance but perhaps just a little more tenderness and understanding would guide her right over that edge and into my arms—or between my legs.

She had put the glass on the coffeetable and she followed me into my room. Her phone was in her hands, texting her mother. Cautious, gazing about. I opened a dresser drawer to get her something to wear. The aim was to get her naked but sometimes a pretence is required.

"Take off your clothes," I said, and even though there was no practical reason for her to do it with me still in the room, she did.

She started with her leather jacket, pulling it off and dropping it on the floor. Then her jeans, unbuttoning them and unzipping them, pushing them down and stepping out of them after kicking off her boots without unlacing them. Finally her top, lifting it up over her head and dropping it on the carpet among the other discarded articles. Underneath she was wearing a white bra and a sporty black spandex thong. I was watching her, waiting by with the clothes. She pulled off her socks, the last things she was wearing, and despite her blush, she didn't seem shy. More determined. Tucking hair away from her face, eyeing me boldly. She had definition in her biceps and abs, but her body was young, lithe, nubile. Like an athletic nymph.

I handed her the bundle of clothes. "You can wear these."

"Thanks," she said, and then she turned around and placed the clothes on the bed. Turned. Around.

In her thong.

My heart jumped into my throat as I got a good look at her ass. Tanned, toned, terrific. It was almost enough to make me forget the disappointment of missing out on Alice. Almost.

"I have an appointment in the morning," I told her, "so I'll have to kick you out pretty early. Bathroom's through there if you need it."

She turned back to me and nodded. "You're gonna sleep on the couch?"

"Mmhm."

"You don't have to if you don't want. I mean…"

I paused in the doorway, as if I had been about to leave. She smiled and tilted a hip girlishly. Her dark eyes were slightly glazed from the weed and the beer and she was wearing nothing but her underwear.

"You could just stay here," she said, gesturing vaguely at the bed. "If you want."

I made a display of being reluctant, smiling and looking down at the carpet. She seemed like an assertive girl and I thought she would be most comfortable if she initiated herself. I wasn't wrong. She could sense the balance of power shifting in her favour and she approached me cautiously. Smiling. Willing. She put her hands at my waist, seeking permission in my eyes. I smiled and cupped her face. I could feel the excitement flowing through her, trembling under her skin. I could smell it in her scent, her pheromones. A sweet scent, sweet and smothering that entered into my head and spread through my mind. She let out a shaky breath and lifted onto her toes. Her mouth brushed onto mine in what was perhaps the first kiss of her life and a soft moan came out of her as she pressed them firmer. And firmer. Her mouth opened and her tongue came out. She moaned again. Our breasts mashed together. I grabbed her butt and squeezed. She arched her body into mine and—

"Oh fuck you're hot," she growled.

I chuckled and lifted her up by her ass. She squealed and wrapped her legs around me, surprised at my strength. I carried her to the bed and laid her down and she lay there panting as I pulled off my tanktop. Underneath my breasts were big and bare and bounced once. She stopped panting and stared. I smiled and dropped my shorts and then I hustled her under the covers and crawled in beside her before covering her open mouth with my own.

—

She fell asleep shortly after and I left her there in the bed. I couldn't feed from her until she was deeper into her slumber but the sex had sated me so much.

I sighed a heavy and satisfied sigh, standing completely naked at the kitchen sink as I rinsed out the glass she drank from and poured out the remainder of the beer bottle. The night had turned out quite well, all things considered. Not as perfect as I had originally hoped, but quite well. Of course, I would've preferred to bring Alice home. To strip her out of that sexy red dress she had worn. To pull away her sexy red panties with my teeth. To kiss her, lick her, nibble at her. To fuck her pretty brains out and bite into her tantalizing neck. I sighed again, this one not quite so satisfied. I wondered what it was about Alice that fascinated me so. It was strange for me to be so fixated on one girl. Why, I almost felt guilty for cheating on her. Commitment, eh? Oops.

Smiling to myself, I put the glass back into cupboard. My purse and phone were sitting on the counter and I noticed that I had an unread text. From Alice. I smiled, leaning on the kitchen counter with naked hip, and opened it.

**Thinking of you in bed :)**

**Wish I took you home with me…**

My lips stretched into a grin and I shook my head. Oh, that minx. That saucy little minx. I thumbed in a quick reply and hit send.

**Me too. :(**

Then I stuck the phone into the purse and went back into the bedroom.

The light was off but I could see the vague shape of her under the sheet. Her dark hair spread on the pillow. Her back. I went to the window over the bed and opened the curtains. Bright moonlight spilled in, filling me with excitement. I stared up at it for a minute, basking there in all my nakedness, my phantom heart beginning to throb, my paleness beginning to glow. Heat was filling my face and in my mouth I could feel my fangs elongate.

Finally I turned back to the girl in the bed. Her skin was dark in the moonlight and smooth looking. I could see the definition of her shoulder blades, her spine. Gently, I touched her neck. Nothing stirred but her pulse. Throb. Throb. Throb. I swallowed with my tight throat and pulled back the covers to climb into the bed. I settled down beside her and rolled her onto her back, softly, so softly. She made a small noise but she didn't wake. I watched her face in the moonlight, stroking the hair away from her forehead. She turned her face away in her sleep. Almost as if to offer her throat. I could see the steady throb under the taut tanned skin. I licked my lips and leaned closer. I could feel her naked body undermine, the warmth, the softness. I only wished I could bite a girl in the moment of orgasm, but alas, it wasn't possible without revealing what I truly am. Perhaps one day. I grazed my lips against her neck, teasing myself, making sure she was asleep. Finally I opened my mouth and used my needle sharp fangs to craft two shallow grooves in the pulsebeat of her throat. She stirred, a silken friction of her naked body against mine. But she didn't wake and the venom of my bite would soon ensure her helplessness. Already I could feel the warmth of her blood leaking slowly into my mouth and with a low moan I pulled the covers over our heads.

—


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm not sure if this uploaded properly, so I deleted and reposted. Sorry if you got double alerts or anything.**

**EDIT: It still didn't upload properly, so this is the second time I'm reposting. Hope it works this time...**

—

Chapter 3:

—

The girl was still asleep when the sun came up and she continued to sleep while I showered and continued through my morning beauty regimen. I wasn't being particularly quiet as I busied about the room but the venom and the blood loss would render her lethargic for most of the day, so I let her sleep a little more while I brushed my hair and got dressed, watching her as I did so, admiring her peacefulness. The covers came partway up her back and her skin was pale mocha and the sunlight was soft off her chocolate-colored hair. She was a sweet girl, really. Finally I reached into the bed and touched her ankle and shook her gently.

"Leah? Sorry to wake you, but I really have to get going."

She stirred, eyes fluttering. She realized she wasn't at home and startled slightly before remembering where she was. "Oh," she said. "Shit. Um…yeah. I'll just, uh…"

She was blinking and squinting about the room. I patted her ankle again.

"Take your time," I said. "I'll make you some coffee while you get dressed."

I went out into the kitchen and put the coffee on and she came wandering out of the bedroom just as it was ready, dressed in the same clothes she had worn last night, jeans and a jacket, her face hastily wiped free of makeup. When she saw me, she smiled. Kind of shy, kind of not. I poured the coffee for her and placed it on the counter.

"Thanks," she said, taking the mug in both hands and lifting it into a sip.

I nodded and put the pot back, studying her neck briefly. The twin marks in her throat were so small that I could hardly notice them myself and judging from her demeanour she hadn't noticed them either. She was still holding the mug to her lips and she was trying to drink the scalding liquid quickly.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

She weighed the question. She realized I was inquiring after her emotional state after engaging in underage sex with a complete stranger while under the influences of alcohol and marijuana and for some reason this made her smile. She nodded a couple times. "I'm good," she said.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, sipping. I watched her for a moment and then I nodded as well, pleased there wouldn't be any complications. Not right away, at least.

She finished her coffee pretty quickly and soon I was ushering her out of the apartment. I made a little bit of small talk, mostly to gauge her mood, and I was delighted to find her handling it quite well. No regrets, no weirdness, treating the event casually but with enough gravity to assure me she wouldn't be reckless in who she mentioned it too. After all, if her "stupid bitch" mother found out—her words, not mine—I could very well be arrested. Still, that was the chance I had taken. Inviting her into my apartment last night hadn't been the wisest decision I had ever made but I had been desperate and frustrated and in the end it had actually been quite worth it.

Despite her coolness, however, I did worry for her emotions. Even from just that one night, she seemed to have developed a rather strong attachment to me. I could see it in her eyes. I supposed it was understandable. I was an adult and I treated her like an adult as well. I was sympathetic. Understanding. Affectionate. And, most importantly, sexy as fuck. Of course, I had only been using her, but she didn't know that. As far as she could tell, I was something of a dream come true, and the hope of a date or a relationship was only half-hidden in her coy glances as she stood on the sunlit balcony to say goodbye.

It posed something of a problem. I had no interest in a relationship, naturally, but I certainly didn't want to hurt or anger her. Not only was I guilty of statutory rape but look at her badass leather jacket—the girl was obviously dangerous. Well, she tried hard to look that way. So I figured the best thing to do would be to leave her dangling and hope she would lose interest on her own. It was possible. It was also possible the memory of last night would grow into a fixation that led to desperation and stalking but what were the chances of that?

She was squinting up at the sun, still not fully awake yet. I was slightly weary of the sun myself, being a vampire and all. I wasn't about to burn to ash but I did prefer the moonlight. She shielded her eyes with her hand and looked up at me.

"So, um…thanks for last night," she said. "That was pretty cool of you, to invite me in like that."

I smiled and touched her shoulder. "I'm glad I could help," I said. "And listen, I'm not exactly sure what's going on with you and your mom, but if you ever need someone to talk to—someone who knows what you're going through—you come see me, okay?"

"Okay. I guess I'll, uh…see you around."

"Sure thing. Take care, sweetie."

I leaned and placed a kiss on her cheek, catching the corner of her mouth just to tease her. She smirked and stood there for a minute to watch the back of my jeans as I progressed down the balcony.

That morning I had a meeting with this chick called Victoria. She was the assistant to James Mathers of Mathers Photography and she was in charge of all his bookings and making sure the models showed up when they were supposed to. Usually a phone call would suffice but we were sort of friends as well so we got together occasionally to flirt and act catty about the other models. She was bisexual, which intrigued me, but she routinely fucked her boss, which didn't. Pity. She was every bit as sexy as the models she organized, albeit rather trashier. She had long red hair and big tits and she like to wear tubetops and tight jeans that showed the waistband of her underwear. Ordinarily a nice redheaded ho would be quite the dish, but in Victoria's case I had always found it hard to move past the taint her boss left on her. James was a brilliant photographer, but he was also a misogynistic twat, and I'd prefer not to have my mouth anywhere near where his had been.

So Victoria and I were only friends, even though she often made it clear she was open to more, preferably in the form of a threeway. Regardless of my disinterest, she like to put a personal touch on our meetings, and today we were supposed to meet at the River Café for breakfast, although by the time I arrived I found her not really in any condition to eat. She had been seated at a table on the terrace overlooking the water and she looked completely wasted, for lack of a better word. Her eyes were covered by huge black sunglasses and when she took them off I could see they were red and bloodshot. She greeted me in a limp fashion and ordered a black espresso from the waiter. I ordered a tea, sighing disapprovingly at my red haired friend. She was wearing the same green satin halter she had been clubbing in last night and I could smell the spilt alcohol on it along with a skanky musk of sweat and stale perfume. Either she had forgotten our appointment this morning or she was simply an irresponsible slut. My guess was the latter.

Neither of us ordered breakfast for our own various reasons and soon she had her iPad out on the table as we went over the dates of my forthcoming photo shoots. My next shoot was tomorrow afternoon, at five o'clock sharp. It would be a duet of sorts with a woman named Rosalie Hale whom Victoria described as un-fucking-real. She showed me a picture of a goddess-like blonde wearing a white sling bikini and I actually felt a flicker of jealousy at the utter perfection of her body. Well, well. It's not every day I meet my match in a mere human. This shoot was going to be interesting. Victoria made a few playfully degrading comments about her and then put her iPad away and slurped on the coffee. The sun was very high in the sky by now, no clouds, and she kept glancing at it as if it was deliberately being so bright just to annoy her.

"Ugh," she said. "This fucking sun."

I nodded in agreement. I like a sunny day as much as anyone, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more of a night creature. I sipped my tea and set it back on the saucer. "Late night last night?" I asked her, finally inquiring into the obvious.

She snorted as if the word late didn't quite capture it. "Yeah, out all night partying with James. We only got back to his apartment, like, three hours ago. Barely got an hour sleep and then I had to rush here."

"What were you doing for the other two hours?"

She grinned with that whore-ish pride women like her seem to come by. I cringed daintily with the tea at my lips and set the cup back on the saucer.

"What?" she said innocently.

I looked at her dryly. "Is screwing your boss in the job description for an assistant?"

She chuckled and ignored the question. Like me, she had a very casual attitude on sex. Unlike me, she had absolutely no standards. She took another swig of coffee. "So when are you gonna come with us out to the club one night? James really likes you, you know. Why do you think he keeps hiring you? He could shoot any model he wants."

"And I could go to any studio I want, too."

"Come on, don't be so stuck up. Listen, why don't we all go out after the shoot tomorrow night? We could have a lot of fun together, the three of us."

"That's very flattering, but I think I'll pass."

"Come on, I know you like the ladies."

"Ladies, yes. Men, on the other hand…"

"Come on, don't be such a dyke. You need to loosen up a little. Who knows, you might even like it. And if you don't, I'll be there. James likes to just watch sometimes."

I shook my head and finished my tea. Perhaps I would've been a little more tempted if the woman had actually showered this morning but as it stood I think I would've preferred to fuck myself with a cactus than her and her sleazebag boyfriend. I set the empty cup down with a light clink. "I appreciate the offer, Victoria, but I'm afraid I'm still going to have to pass," I said. "In any case, I happen to be seeing someone, and I doubt she'd approve of a casual threeway on the side."

She seemed disappointed but she let it go. "Suit yourself."

I stood up and took some money out of my purse. "Actually, I wanted to surprise her at work this morning, so I better get going."

"Alright, just don't forget: first shoot tomorrow afternoon, five o'clock at the studio."

"I'll be there."

She nodded and slipped her sunglasses back on, flagging the waiter for another coffee. I waved at her with my fingers and continued across the terrace.

By the time I got to the mall there was a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I was going to see Alice and the thought filled me with joy. I couldn't wait to see her face when I surprised her, the smile that would undoubtedly light up her every feature, the delight in her eyes to find her prospective girlfriend coming to visit her at work for no reason at all other than to just see her. A sweet gesture, no? Of course it was. I didn't kid myself into believing the gesture would garner me a reward in pussy, of course, but hopefully it would at least score me some points in the commitment department. At the very least it demonstrated that I took great pleasure in her company and enjoyed being with her, even with her clothes on.

I chuckled at myself as I strode through the mall purposefully, through throngs of shoppers and up an escalator. On our first date she had explained to me that she worked at a place called the One Honey Boutique, a fashion chain that I actually knew quite well. They carried several designers that I had modelled for, including Runaway and Wilde Heart and their own line of Honey Couture. She was a salesgirl, which was actually her dream job until she could attain her dream career of being a designer. The store was on the third floor, in a more sweetly scented area of the mall populated by women in heels and skirtsuits moving among makeup counters and stands of handbags and purses and racks and racks of clothes. Paradise, in other words. I went among the stores with assurance until I found a plateglass window with three words in curly gold letters across it:

One Honey Boutique.

I smiled. How aptly named. I knew of one honey in particular I would find in there, and with that thought, I adjusted my hair, brightened my smile, and sauntered inside.

Alice was arranging some stock and even the mere sight of her caused a wave of pleasure to wash over me. Her uniform consisted of a white blouse and black pants and the pants were tight about her butt, her tiny cute amazing little butt. The feeling in my chest was tight as well and it got tighter as she turned around and saw me, lighting up with delight exactly as I had envisioned, but cuter, prettier, more beautiful. I approached her and her smile grew sassy.

"Hi," she said as if I was any other customer. "What can I do for you?"

"Mmm," I murmured, gazing at her hungrily and putting my hands at her hips. "So many things."

She giggled and pushed at my hands playfully, glancing about the shop. We seemed to be mostly alone, aside from two other salesgirls and a couple customers. She gave me a quick peck on the lips and said:

"So what's up? What are you doing here?"

"Just came by to see you," I said. "Ever since last night, I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me either," she admitted cutely.

"I thought maybe I could hang out for a bit. Are you busy?"

"Not really, it's pretty slow today."

I nodded and looked around. Beside us was the window display with several mannequins and one of them caught my eye. It was the one in a pink ultra-short cocktail dress. The mannequins were all facing the window but it was her ass that caught my eye due to it's similarities to Alice, petite, perfect, and, well, plastic. Alice's was rather more soft, but I had a vision of her in that same dress, and the vision seriously intrigued me.

"Hmm," I said, admiring the dress. "That looks nice."

"Tell me about it. I wish I could afford a dress like that."

"Don't you get a discount?"

"Yeah, but I still can't really justify spending that much on clothes while I'm saving for school,"

I nodded, leaning to examine the price tag. It was a little under three hundred dollars, which seemed fairly modest to me, but obviously Alice had other priorities. How responsible. What a perfect young woman she was.

"What about you, you interested?" she asked.

"Mmm, very."

"Well, I could let you use my employee's discount if you want. Wanna try it on?"

"Actually, I think I do," I said, and then I let go of the tag and turned to her with a sultry smile. "Although I may need some assistance in the change room."

"I thought you might," she said, and then she giggled and went to fetch a copy of the dress.

I followed her and made sure to request a size that was actually a little smaller than my own. Luckily, we hadn't been dating long enough to be privy to that kind of intimate information just yet. She seemed slightly skeptical if the dress would fit properly but I smiled and reviewed her body and said it would fit just fine.

The change rooms were in the back, high class cubicles fitted with chairs and sofas and a shallow pedestal to stand on as you examined yourself in the full-length mirrors. There were no doors, however, just a curtain. Alice ushered me into the cubicle furthest in the back—perhaps subconscious aware we may need privacy—and pulled the curtain closed. I placed the dress on the back of a chair and waited to spring my surprise. Alice turned back to me and I reached for the buttons on her blouse.

"Here, let me help you."

She grinned and made a little squeal. "What are you doing?!"

"I told you I want to try the dress on—on you."

I had half the buttons undone by now and she was standing with her wrists out and a breathless smile, not really understanding but excited anyway.

"Me?" she asked.

"Mmhm."

I pulled off her blouse, leaving her upperbody in only her bra. Just a plain bra that she wore to work but those perfect little boobs would look cute in anything. My hands moved to the button on her pants.

"I want to take you dancing on the weekend," I said. "And I want you to wear that dress. I could picture you in it from the second I saw it."

"I can't let you buy me a dress."

"Don't you want to go dancing with me?"

"Yes, but…"

I tugged down her pants. She bit her lip, positively beaming. I was so glad she mentioned that she couldn't afford the dress earlier. It made the gift all the more sweeter. She glanced wildly over her shoulder at the curtain and spun back to me.

"Okay, okay," she said. "Let me get my shoes off."

I backed off and gave her a minute to undress properly. I took up the dress. On the hanger it looked much smaller than it was but the fabric would stretch—stretch and hug and tightly conform to every inch of Alice's wonderful body.

Finally she had her shoes off and her pants and she was wearing nothing but socks and her bra and panties. She was blushing fairly brightly and I realized that this was the first time I had ever seen her without clothes on—as far as she knew.

I handed her the dress and I watched her pull it down over her head. While her face was covered I had one blinding view body with her arms up and I was almost disappointed as the dress came down to cover it all, much the same as when I watched her dress for our date last night. Her body had the most peculiar effect on me and I could already feel my blood beginning to pump, the hunger beginning to throb in the pit of my stomach. It surprised me how powerful the sensations were, so soon after feeding. After that girl last night I really shouldn't be so… so…

She was wriggling into the dress and I lost my train of thought as the candy pink material settled against her curves, her waist, her hips. Smiling, she turned around for me to zip her up and I did, letting out a soft and shaky breath. The scent of her excitement was strong all around us and the sound of her giggle almost knocked me out. She was posing on the pedestal with her eyes on the mirror. The dress sorted a little oddly with her socks and her bra straps showing but it truly was an incredible fit.

"Well?" she said. "What do you think?"

She stood with her side to the mirror and held in her tummy. As if she needed to. I smiled at the mirror and smiled at her and I shook my head in honest wonder.

"It's perfect," I said. "Turn around."

She grinned, realizing I wanted to see her ass. She turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder as she preened it a little, even standing on the toes of her socks to simulate heels. I looked at it in the mirror and then I circled around behind her to see it with my own eyes, the dress skin-tight, the fabric so taut and hugging.

"Not bad, huh?" she said and gave it a wiggle.

I almost fell backwards off the pedestal. Instead I just fanned myself with a hand, letting out a low whistle at its perfection. "Wow," I said. "It looks amazing on you."

"It does, doesn't it? But still, it's pretty expensive."

"It's not really that expensive. Besides, look how perfect it is. No, I'm afraid I have to insist. You must let me buy it for you."

She smiled and didn't reply but I could see in her eyes that she wasn't going to object anymore. She turned her gaze back to the mirror and posed a little more. She really did like it. I smiled and slipped my arms around her, drawing her eyes to mine. She seemed surprised but she let me kiss her, softly on her lips, cupping her face.

It had only been last night when I kissed her last but I had almost forgotten how sweet she was. I deepened the kiss, eliciting a soft moan from her. I stroked her back and her sides, caressing the soft silk of the dress. I moaned as well, my body beginning to throb. She was just so sweet. So sweet and so soft and so warm and lovely. My hand cupped her butt and squeezed it. She seemed to like it. I squeezed again, letting the dress ride up, and then I bought my hand around to the front of her panties. There was a warmth radiating there and I rubbed my fingers at the soft slit behind the material until—

She broke away, gasping and giggling.

"We can't," she said, backing away and pushing the dress back down. "Not here."

I sighed heavily but my disappointment was somewhat mitigated by the fact that she was right. Not even a hunger as powerful as mine would want to waste our first time in a change room in the middle of the day. I even scolded myself for going as far as I did. Bad Bella. Bad.

"Sorry," I said, playing it off with a breathless chuckle. "I guess the dress is even more enchanting than I thought."

She giggled and agreed, smoothing the fabric with her hands and glancing back at the mirror. "Yeah."

"So you'll go dancing with me next weekend? I know the perfect place, you'll love it."

She looked a little hesitant, a little coy. "I don't know. To be honest, I don't really know how to dance. Never been a nightclub kind of girl."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll teach you. It's easy. All you have to do move your hips…"

I put my hands at her hips and moved them, side to side. I swayed my own hips to show her how. She looked at them and smiled and began moving her hips on her own, softly in a circular motion, before lifting the smile to my face.

"See?" I told her. "Just like that."

She moved them some more, gaining boldness. I cupped her face and moved for another kiss.

But she skittered away and whinnied like a little horse.

"Sorry," I said, and ran a clawed hand through my hair. "Gosh, this is so hard."

She shook her head and reached behind her for the zip of her dress. "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm as desperate as you are. I just need to be sure about you first, that's all."

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully. "I think you just like to tease me."

"Well, that might be true too," she said, and then she gripped the hem of the dress and pulled the whole thing over her head, exposing her body all over again. Her eyes were alight with a saucy glint and she said: "Speaking of teasing…"

She picked up her blouse and she began to get dressed, very slowly, very erotically.

It wasn't easy, but somehow I managed to do nothing but stand in the corner and pout until she was fully clothed. She led me back out into the store and spent a few minutes trying to convince me not to buy the dress for her but I wouldn't hear of it. Initially I had only wanted to buy it out of the goodness of my own metaphorical heart but after that display in the change room I was glad she felt a little guilty. Hopefully after wearing it on our date she would feel indebted enough to actually put out. Good lord, I'd never known such a relentless tease.

Alice swiped my creditcard through the register and slipped the dress into a cardboard bag. She pushed the bag at me across the counter and I pushed it back with a smile.

"For you," I said. "Don't forget to wear it this weekend, alright?"

She smiled and slipped the bag under the table to take home with her later. "I won't."

By now there were some customers in the store, two pairs of women, one of them pointedly glancing about for some assistance. I sighed and turned back to Alice.

"Well," I said. "It looks like you're going to be busy. I should probably get going."

"Yeah," she said with a disappointed glance at the customers. Then she turned back to me and smiled. "But it was nice of you to come by. I should come see where you work sometime."

"Actually, that's a great idea. I have a photoshoot tomorrow afternoon if you want to come watch."

Her eyes went round and wide. "Seriously? Okay yeah. That would be awesome." She chuckled and nodded with enthusiasm. Given her interest in designing, I was sure she would love it, although this particular shoot wouldn't involve a lot of clothes.

"Thanks," I said. "You'd actually be doing me a favour. I've worked with the photographer before and, well…he tends to be quite intimate with some of the models. Him and his assistant—his girlfriend—keep trying to get me into a threeway, so if I show up with a date…"

"Maybe they'll get off your back," she said. "Good thinking."

I nodded and hesitated a little more before leaving, soaking up a last precious few seconds of her adorable presence. Her smile had turned somewhat pensive after my last words and she glanced down at the counter and back up at me.

"So, uh…you're not interested in threeways or sleeping around?" she asked.

She had asked very playfully, as if only joking around. But I could see the insecurity in her eyes, the suspicion that a woman like me probably gets a ton of offers and might even accept them. I smiled as if she was being silly and leaned my elbows on the counter to look steadily into her eyes.

"Nope," I said. "The only thing I'm interested in is you."

Her smile perked into a giggle. It was a total lie, of course, and yet it felt strangely honest as I said it. In some ways, I suppose it was actually true. Even if the hunger led me in other directions like it had last night, there was no denying that from the first moment I had set my eyes on Alice that it was Alice whom I wanted more than anything.

One of the customers had approached the counter and she interrupted our moment by clearing her throat obnoxiously. She had a dress in her hands and she was obviously waiting for service. At a glance, I would assume she wanted to inquire after a larger size. I do hoped she had wiped her hands of donut residue before handling the merchandise.

I turned back to Alice and winked. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

She nodded with a smile and quickly hustled over to the customer. "Hi, can I help you with something?"

I backed away, watching her, and then I turned and continued out of the store. I was smiling all the way to the car and still smiling by the time I got back to the apartment.

—


	4. Chapter 4

—

Chapter 4:

—

The next day, on my way to the shoot, I stopped by the mall to pick up Alice. She was wearing her uniform with a jacket over it and she was practically bouncing on the carseat.

"This is so exciting," she said. "So what kind of shoot is it? Swimsuit? I hope it's swimsuit."

"Almost," I told her, slinging her a smile. "Lingerie."

"Oooh, lingerie. Is it for some kind of catalogue?"

"Not quite. This one isn't for advertisement, it's a fluff piece for a men's magazine. You know those cheesy spreads that include interviews with the models?"

"They're going to interview you?"

"Mmhm, but they generally make up whatever they think will sell the issue. According to the last interview I did, my hobbies are chess and horseriding, and I prefer men who are kind and generous but assertive when they need to be. Which is amusing, considering I've never been attracted to a man in my life, regardless of how assertive he might be."

"I guess all those magazines are bullshit."

"Well, not entirely. I do enjoy horseriding."

She giggled. It was mid-afternoon and we were cruising downtown, almost at the studio. She was still excited but she seemed slightly deflated at the context of the shoot, so I figured I better tell her about something before we got there.

"Actually, I should warn you," I said. "I'll be doing the shoot with another chick and there'll probably be a little faux-lesbian imagery involved."

"How faux?"

"All very innocent, don't worry," I reassured her. "An embrace or two, some light touching."

She didn't seem to approve very much but she tried not to frown. "Well, I guess it's your job. Does it bother you, though? Doing shoots like that? I mean, it's kind of objectifying, don't you think?"

I turned the corner and shot her another smile. "I prefer to think of it as glorifying," I said.

She giggled again and apparently decided to withhold judgement for a while. After witnessing the shoot for herself I'm sure she would see it my way.

Mather's Photography was located in the loft over James's actual apartment, which certainly would've been convenient for a man who liked to combine business and pleasure the way James did. He was very a high profile fashion photographer and many models were quite eager to work with him and quite grateful afterwards. His charms were mostly lost on one such as myself but even I had to admit he had a way with women that I could almost admire. Credit where credit is due, I suppose. From one predator to another.

By the time we got there he was already at work on the model I would be working with, Ms Rosalie Hale if I recalled her name correctly. The set consisted of a bed with white satin sheets and she was attired only in white lace and white stockings. He had his camera in his hands and he was talking to her very animatedly with lots of grins and smirks that she kept stealing glances at. I took one look at her body and felt an unfamiliar throb of jealousy. She was just as perfect as the picture I had seen of her yesterday morning and I was mildly put out to find that her perfection in the picture hadn't been airbrushed at all.

Victoria was standing by with a couple of techs and excused herself when she saw Alice and I. Alice was glancing about, kind of shy, taking it all in. Victoria spared her a glance but focused her attention on me.

"There you are, we're about to get started," she said. "Rosalie's already changed."

I had my jacket folded over my arm and I glanced again at the blonde standing by the bed in her white heels and white lingerie. "Is that her?"

"Of course it's her," she said. "You see any other half-naked bimbos around here?"

Victoria was looking down at her iPad and I gave a pointed glance at her tanktop and at the waistband of her underwear showing above the belt of her jeans. "Aside from you?"

She grinned and turned to Alice. "Who's this?"

"This is my girlfriend, Alice," I said. "I told her it would be okay if she came to watch."

Alice smiled at her excitedly. "Hi. I've never been to a photo shoot before."

Victoria looked skeptical, as if wondering if she was still in kindergarten. "No problem," she said. "Just keep to this area of the studio and don't make any noise, alright?"

Alice nodded vigorously. "You won't even know I'm here."

I smiled at her enthusiasm and kissed her cheek, partly just to be sweet, partly to mark my territory in front of Victoria. "I have to get changed," I said. "I'll see you later."

I glanced at Victoria as I turned away. Victoria knew what I was doing and smirked and shook her head.

The costume designer and the makeup girl chased after me as I was going across the studio and followed me into the dressing room while the designer explained what I was supposed to wear. Apparently I'd be in black as a contrast with Rosalie who was in white, a classic arrangement that suited me just fine. I nodded at it all and took off my clothes, folding them and leaving them on a chair while the designer handed me a black lace bra and black lace panties, waiting till I had them on before handing me a garter and some stockings as well. The makeup girl was already working on my face while the designer adjusted my breasts for me, making sure they were almost spilling out but not quite, and finally I was ready.

Alice had somehow acquired a cup of coffee and she was blowing on the rim when I came out into the studio. When she saw me, she stopped blowing. A grin spread over her mouth at my costume, at the black heels and black stockings and black lace lingerie, and I gave her a big sexy wink as I was called over to begin the shoot.

"Oh, Bella?" called James in his dry and pompous voice. He could demean you just by saying your name. "Anytime you're ready to join us, we'll get started."

I didn't greet him, I just swaggered past in my black underwear with an air of distain. My blonde counterpart, Rosalie, looked me up and down in blatant assessment.

"Rosalie Hale," she said by way of introduction. "Nice to meet you."

I looked her up and down as well, smirking at her outfit of white lace and back at her eyes in a way that she couldn't really misinterpret.

"The pleasure's all mine," I said.

A flicker of something passed over her face—confusion? Suspicion? James rolled his eyes at the exchange and said:

"Ladies? If we could get started?"

I gave him a dry look and turned with a smile back to my blonde colleague, eager to get to work with her.

The shoot began with a series of stock shots against a green screen arranged in the corner of the studio, random poses that might be used or might not. Out of the hundreds of pictures that would be taken, only a handful of them would make the actual magazine, and considering the intended audience of the magazine, possibly only the ones that showcased our breasts well enough. These initial shots were mostly solo, the two of us standing slightly apart as we moved through the poses that were so familiar to us, bent at the hip or back arched or hands in our hair with a laboured gaze at the camera as if struggling with some frustration. James would call out creepy encouragement and instructions in that annoying voice of his, enjoying his job of telling beautiful women what to do. Like me he was originally British, but his accent was lower class cockney, which made you want to punch him. He kept trying to draw my eyes to the lens but it was to the blonde beside me they kept drifting.

The woman's perfection seem to grow with every glance. As a connoisseur of female beauty, I was really quite intrigued. She didn't have the same magic as Alice of course—Alice's appeal when beyond the physical—but anatomically speaking she didn't seem to have a gene out of place. From the tilt of her pelvis to the curve of her spine to the length of her torso and the gap between her thighs—everything was perfect. Slim, tall, her legs so incredibly long, her waist so incredibly trim, her hips so round and smooth. Her hair, long, blonde, lustrous like a mane. Even her face was perfect, with features that seemed to have been chiselled by a bunch of wistful angels. Everything, all of it perfect, and all at the moment enhanced by white patent leather heels and white stockings with lace trim and white lace panties and a white lace pushup bra, gold rings on some of her fingers, a string of pearls around her neck. Her slim, long, attractive-looking neck.

My eyes flickered over her pulsepoint as she craned her throat under the flash of the camera, a low hunger already beginning to brood in my stomach. It wasn't even a matter of temptation, it was a matter of _must_. I had to have this woman. She didn't drive me crazy the way Alice did but Alice was a special case. And this one was special too, only in a different way. For three hundred years I had wandered the earth in the quest for only the finest pieces of ass and in all those centuries I don't believe I had ever witnessed a woman as sublimely perfect as this Rosalie Hale. To let such a specimen slip through my fingers without even a sip would be a regret I'd carry for the rest of my existence. Alice and her intimacy issues would have to forgive me, but I _had_ to have her. Eventually.

Alice was still watching from her corner of the studio and she still looked excited and half-turned on. She kept her eyes mostly on me but she had a few glances to spare for my blonde cohort as well, naturally enough. James called for a break after the first shoot and Victoria handed me a towel as I went over to check on Alice.

"Wow," she said, a pretty pink blush still hovering over her cheeks. "You look incredible."

"Thank you," I said, using the towel to dab at my forehead.

She was staring at my body unabashedly, half grinning, half in shock. "Wow," she repeated, her eyes lingering over those tiny scraps of black lace that hugged my body so intimately. "I've never seen a woman wear anything like that before. Not up close."

"Then you're in luck," I told her. "Dating me, you'll be able to enjoy me in underwear like this all the time."

She looked at me in excitement and I smirked and added:

"Whenever you're ready to take it to the next level, of course."

She giggled. "Now who's a tease?"

"Still you, by my calculations."

She giggled and went back to staring at my costume. "Wow," she said one more time. "I still can't believe how incredible you look."

I smiled at her. "You haven't seen nothing yet."

She opened her mouth to ask what I meant but then James called out from across the studio where the bed was arranged as the secondary set.

"Time for bed, Ms Swan," he called. "Let's go, chop, chop."

Alice blinked innocently. "Bed?"

I handed my towel to a nearby tech, winked at her, and sauntered over to the bed.

Where my blonde companion was already waiting. Now came the more provocative part of the shoot, the part I enjoyed most. Me in black, her in white, sprawled and languid amid the rumpled white satin sheets and white satin pillows, like twin cats reclining there. It began innocently enough and soon progressed to some more risqué shots with her head in my lap like a spent lover or me with my arms and legs around her from behind while she clutched a pillow in her lap, like girls at a slumber party. She was very professional about it, of course, far more than I was. I admit I took a few liberties with the intimacy, inhaling her scent subtly, letting my touch linger over her skin. She seemed to notice and she grew slightly uncomfortable but she didn't say anything.

Alice watched all this with a nibbled lip. There was no question how sexy it was but she still couldn't quite seem to approve. Perhaps it was jealousy. I could certainly understand that. I gave her a reassuring smile every now and then but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little distracted by the closeness of my new blonde friend. It was like a taste of things to come, a sweet sampler. A whiff of her hair and perfume as she turned and crawled and spread herself beside me on the sheets, the two of us gazing at the camera before turning our heads on the same pillow to gaze into each other's eyes for a shot of that as well. I held the eye contact for a moment too long and flickered my eyes at her lips. The hunger had grown powerful enough to tempt me to kiss her right then, in front of James and Victoria and even Alice, but it was temptation only and I squashed it after indulging it for only a moment.

The only thing I disliked about the shoot was James himself, constantly barking orders and ordering us into different positions. He had a terrific vision for female beauty, but god, such a pig. At one point he wasn't quite satisfied with the upward angle of my ass while I was posed on the mattress on all fours and he even embarrassed me slightly with how he kept telling me to lift it higher in that obnoxious voice of his. I did, but it still wasn't good enough, and eventually he called over his lovely assistant Victoria who climbed onto the bed behind me and put her hands on my hips and lifted my ass to the desired angle while I glared cattily into the lens for the picture, not acting. James took a few and then he lowered the camera, grinning like an asshole. Victoria was smirking as well. She had taken the opportunity to grope me a little while adjusting my ass. I contemplated filing an assault charge against her but that would've been hypocritical considering I kind of liked it.

The only one not smiling was Alice. She was kind of pouty and she glared at both James and Victoria until I smiled at her to say it was fine.

The shoot was almost done and the final few shots consisted of a mock pillow fight, with me and the blonde each clutching a corner of a satin pillow while glaring across the bed at each other as if we were so sexy we just had to fight about it. The emotion on my side wasn't even faked. I truly was jealous. I don't deny it—in fact, I savoured it. Jealousy was an emotion I felt far too rarely and it was quite exciting to feel it now, to gaze at her body and bask in her ever so slight superiority. In some ways, you might say I had her beat. Our bodies were remarkably similar in height and stature, the only real difference was our breasts. Mine were bigger. Whether or not that was a good thing, however, was certainly open to interpretation. One could argue that mine were too big and distracted attention, while hers, on the other hand, were simply an utterly perfect complement to the overall arrangement of her body—not too large, not too small. Perfect, just like the rest of her. A sublime sculpture of flawless femininity.

Finally the shoot was over. James lowered his camera. The camera was attached to a strap around his neck and he pulled off the strap with a jaunty flourish.

"And that's a wrap," he said. "Lovely work ladies, beautiful as always. Tomorrow we'll finish up the outdoor portion of the shoot. I'll have my assistant get you the info. Until then—it was a pleasure."

He held out his hand. Rosalie climbed gracefully out of the bed, in her heels and lingerie, and shook the hand before continuing toward the dressing room.

He offered the hand to me. I smirked at it haughtily, turned on my heel, and followed Rosalie.

The dressing room was essentially a huge mirror-walled closet filled with racks of costumes and a couple dressers scattered with makeup and a chair or two. Rosalie had already taken off her shoes and she had a foot propped on one of the chairs as she unclipped the garter from the stocking and rolled it down along her thigh and knee and down her calf to her foot. I started with my bra, unlatching it and letting my breasts free. I was about to make my first move on her and it never hurt to be topless while making an advance. She had already moved on to her other stocking.

"Well," I said conversationally. "I'd say that was a successful shoot, wouldn't you? I had a lot of fun."

"Yeah, me too. We have good chemistry."

"I'll say," I purred, with a blatant smirk at her long legs and long torso.

She smirked as well. She was reaching behind her back for her bracatch and she took the bra off while I was still watching without even a moment's hesitation.

Good sign. Good sign.

I had only a glimpse of her breasts but they were every bit as perfect as I had predicted. They were actually quite similar in size and shape to Alice's. She dropped the bra and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, turning aside so as not to be so obvious. It was her left side exposed to me and something caught my eye on her finger.

"Is that an engagement ring?" I asked.

She looked at her hand as if she had forgotten about the large diamond there. "Yeah."

"Who's the lucky guy?"

"His name's Royce. He's a banker at National Savings."

I nodded. We were putting on our regular underwear now and organizing our streetclothes. The news that she was engaged didn't discourage me too much. There had been no possibility of her being single and perhaps a challenge would be just the thing to work up a proper appetite.

"How long have you been engaged?" I asked.

"Just over a year now."

"And when's the big day?"

"Actually, we haven't set a date yet," she said. "He's so busy with work. Soon, though. Hopefully in the spring, or maybe the summer."

I smiled and nodded some more. Perhaps this would be easier than I thought. A non-committal fiancé, a wistful young bride-to-be who was perhaps a little bi-curious if her glances at my boobs were any indication. She pulled her top down over her chest and fluffed out her blonde hair.

"What about you," she said, "are you seeing anyone?"

"Nope," I said, with a charming smile. "I'm completely unattached."

She glanced at me as she hitched up her jeans and buttoned them. Her purse was sitting on one of the dressers and she went and fetched it.

"Well, I better get out of here," she said. "See you tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it," I said, so sweetly that she actually had to glance over her shoulder as she left the room.

The exchanged had left me flushed with delight and I smiled to myself as I finished dressing leisurely. It was nice to have new prey, prey so lovely that she had made me completely forget about my rule of avoiding relationships with women I work with. I remembered now and I didn't even care. In any case, this was a little different. This one was straight and engaged. There would be little hope of seducing her into anything other than an isolated encounter or two—which was fine by me. My habits as a vampire made traditional relationships all but impossible. The only thing I wanted was a taste. Of her blood and of her magnificent body. I sighed and noticed the discarded white lace underwear on the ground. Smiling, I bent and picked up the bra. The bra she had been wearing only a few minutes ago, the bra that had cupped and hugged her ultra-perfect breasts. I let my eyes fall closed as I lifted the undergarment to my nose and inhaled. Her pheromones yet lingered in the lace and I could smell the flashes of attraction that she had felt for me.

Rosalie was gone by the time I exited the dressing room. I had my handbag over my shoulder and I cast about the studio, looking for Alice. When I saw her, I frowned. She was with James.

She didn't seem to be enjoying his company but that was hardly the point. He was obviously hitting on her, wearing a big sleazy grin along with his black suit over his black silk shirt. Alice was blushing and shaking her head. I didn't need to read lips to know he had asked her if she was into dudes. The sight infuriated me but I carefully kept it out of my expression as I strode over. James saw me coming and smirked in his insufferable way.

"Bella," he said, "you never told me you're dating such an incredible little creature. You should've bought her around sooner. I could even use her in a shoot." Grinning, he turned back to Alice. "What do you think, beautiful? Have you ever done any modelling?"

"No, I…"

"No? How come no? Look at you, you're amazing. Tell you what, why don't we get you some experience right now? All we need to do is take you in the back and whip off your clothes and find something sexy for you to wear, hm? Or maybe you could wear nothing at all, what do you think?"

"James," I said.

He turned to me. I gave him a chilling smile.

"I bought her here to keep you from hitting on _me_," I said. "Not so you could hit on _her_."

Most men would be intimidated by me but James was just too shameless. He smirked and put his hands at my hips suggestively and stepped into my personal space.

"Well, if you'd prefer me to hit on _you_," he said, "say no more."

My skin crawled at his proximity but outwardly I remained poised and unruffled. "How about I hit you instead? In the face."

"That might be fun. I like a girl who likes to play rough."

I stepped back and slapped him.

A sharp stinging sound that rang through the studio. Alice gasped and touched her mouth but most other people didn't even look over. Victoria was on the phone and she only glanced once before going back to her conversation. James making a spectacle of himself by infuriating a woman wasn't much of a novelty to his staff. His head had whipped to the side and he held his cheek. Then he turned back to us, smiling as if nothing happened.

"So how about it?" he went on. "You girls have any plans tonight? Because if you don't, you're coming with me. VIP section of the Bayside Club, what do you say? Just drinks, no funny business. Unless, of course, we can get you drunk enough."

The man was incorrigible. Alice gave a queasy smile. I took her arm and drew her toward me.

"We'll pass," I said. "But we're flattered, I'm sure."

He shrugged as if it was our loss and watched with a smirk as I led Alice out of the studio.

It was getting late by then, dark outside, so Alice and I decided to make a date of the rest of the night. Neither of us were particularly dressed to go out—she was still in her uniform from work—so we stopped at a small Chinese restaurant and had dinner there, together at a booth in the back. She went to sit at the other side of the table but I took her hand and sat her beside me instead. We smiled and bumped elbows as we ate. We giggled. We broke open our fortune cookies and swapped fortunes.

On our way back to her place we stopped at a liquor store and browsed for a bottle of wine, perusing the aisle with our arms around each other's waists, examining labels and price tags. She kept asking me which would I like but there was nothing I would've liked more than her own tasty self. In the end, we settled on a nice merlot.

By the time we got back to her place I seemed to have fallen in love with her all over again, or at least as close to love as I was capable. I was reminded that there was simply something about this girl, something that drew me more strongly and deeply then anyone of recent memory. I could even feel a slight ache in my chest, not just from how much I wanted her but something else as well. Guilt? Regret? I wasn't sure but part of me was certainly glad to be out of that studio and away from James and Victoria and that infallible blonde named Rosalie. This is where I really wanted to be. With Alice.

It was the first time I had been inside her apartment and I took a quick look around. It was smaller than mine, more cozy, more lived-in. Alice had left some clothes laying around and she quickly grabbed them while apologizing for the mess. The coffeetable in the livingroom held a laptop and a cluster of nailpolish bottles and a stack of women's fashion magazines. I wish those were the kinds of magazine I could pose for, but alas, such magazines rarely had use for scintillating spreads of lace-clad supermodels, which were my specialty. I did model regular clothes on occasion but the opportunities were rather limited.

After she had tidied up a bit she took me into the kitchen and began rifling through drawers for a corkscrew. The trip to the studio was fresh on her mind and she was still making conversation about it.

"I still can't believe the nerve of that photographer guy. What a creep. My skin's still crawling."

I chuckled once. "Sorry about that," I said. "It seems I underestimated him."

"I'm glad you bought me along, though. That was really fun. You gotta make sure to get me a copy of the magazine the pictures will run in. That outfit you were wearing was just too hot."

She had the bottle between her thighs and she was straining as she tried to pull out the cork.

"I'll get you a copy as soon as I can," I said, pleased she was beginning to approve.

She was still struggling with the cork. I smiled and took the bottle from her gently. She gave me a cocky look as if she didn't think I'd be able to do it either and her eyes went wide I simply pulled the cork out with absolutely no visible effort.

"Wow," she said. "How'd you do that?"

I had been showing off my vampire strength and it was probably ill-advised but I wanted to impress her. I set the bottle and the corkscrew on the kitchen counter and smiled at her.

"But just so you know," I went on, continuing the thread of the conversation. "You don't need a magazine if you want to see me with my clothes off. I'll take it all off right now if you wanted me to."

She seemed seriously tempted but I think we both knew tonight wasn't the night. She poured a little bit of wine into two glasses and smiled.

"How about tonight we just makeout?" she suggested.

"Sounds nice to me," I said, taking up a glass. "When?"

"Well, we could watch a little TV first, or…"

I didn't wait to hear any other suggestions, I just took her hand and tugged her gently toward her bedroom. She giggled and grabbed the wine bottle to bring with us.

Her bedroom was much like her living room – a little messy, mostly cute. Makeup and clothes everywhere, a medly of perfumes and bodyspray lingering in the air. She finished our first glasses of wine and then we set the glasses together with the bottle on the nightstand before climbing onto the bed. All we took off was our shoes but that was enough. My hunger ached for more and more but the rest of me was infused with a strange and simple gratefulness for every moment, naked or not.

I was on top and I was cupping her face and kissing her mouth with all the longing and desire I could muster, showing her exactly how much I wanted her. She moaned softly and remained quite passive, accepting my kiss as if it was her due. Her lips tasted like wine and they were so soft and warm. Her scent was teasing my nose and her moans were taunting my eardrums. The experience was maddening and soothing all at the same time and slowly my kiss became more insistent. More desperate. I could feel the smooth skin of her cheek under my hand and the softness of the nape of her neck and I pulled her mouth toward mine, desperate to show her how badly I needed her. My tongue went into her mouth and she enjoyed that for a while before she broke the kiss with a giggle.

The spell was broken momentarily but only momentarily. She smiled at me and I hadn't even noticed that her hand had gone up my top.

"Wanna go for second base?" she offered.

Smiling, I slipped my own hand up her top and carefully cupped one of her breasts. It was shielded by the cup of her bra but so soft, so amazingly soft. She giggled and squirmed slightly and I squeezed it gently and popped it out of the bra. She bit her lip and dared me with her eyes to fondle it. I did. It fit perfectly in my palm, a small mound of incredible softness.

Meanwhile her own hand was rising in my top until she too took a handful of one of my breasts. The touch sent a wave of excitement outward from my chest, all over my body. She gave it a squeeze, moaning as my own hand continued to work under her top. I had her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and I was rubbing it gently. Her face had gone flushed and frustrated and her squeeze was slightly rough. She moaned again and with her other hand she took the hem of my top.

"May I?" she asked.

Rather than answering, I sat back and did it for her, pulling off the top and discarding it over the side of the bed. And then, smiling, I unclasped my bra and discarded it as well.

It was a bold move and it shocked her. Her mouth opened and her eyes twinkled with mischief as they flittered over my large, pale, naked breasts. Without speaking I opened the buttons of her blouse and I was delighted to find her bra unlatched at the front. I glanced once at her eyes for permission and found nothing but excitement. I unlatched the bra and opened it.

They were small, small and perfect. I cupped them both in my hands needingly, flicking her nipples with my thumbs, making her gasp and jolt on the bed. I leaned down and kissed them each, a loving kiss on each of her hard tulipbud little nipples and then I settled on one of them and sucked on it gently, causing her to moan and squirm softly.

"Oh god," she said, her voice strange and on the edge. "I knew it was going to be hard to wait but this is torture."

"Tell me about it," I said, lifting my face to look at her.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and I could tell I was wearing her down. Smiling, I leaned toward her seductively, presenting my chest to her face. She already had my breasts in her hands and she was squeezing them and kneading them, watching the huge mounds collide and mash together and jiggle softly. I stroked her forehead and she kept her eyes on mine as she lifted her face and licked one of my nipples.

A soft hiss escaped me as sheer excitement swept over my body. My eyes closed and when they opened they were still connected to hers.

"Does this mean we've waited long enough?" I asked.

She had her lips around my nipple and her eyes crinkled as if she were smiling.

"Nope," she said. "It just means I wanna suck your tits."

"Oh, you tease," I moaned. "You naughty little…ah—!"

She cut me off by taking a nip at the swollen nub between her teeth. I groaned and glared at her helplessly, my nipple throbbing in torment, my pussy, my whole body. She was still gazing up at me and then she smiled, closed her eyes, and began sucking on my nipple very lavishly and gratuitously.

—


	5. Chapter 5

—

Chapter 5:

—

That night, she shooed me off more weak and hungry than I had ever been—well, since our last date, at least. Alice walked me to her door to let me out, her lips all smudged and swollen, her eyes all sleepy and smiley. We had been making out for at least four hours and it was very late. She would only get a few hours sleep before work but she said it was totally worth it. I was extremely reluctant to leave her and I lingered in her doorway for a while, playfully begging for her to let me back in. But she only giggled and told me to be patient, enjoying her new power over me. It wasn't often I found myself at a disadvantage with a girl but then again it wasn't often a girl drove me quite so crazy. Finally she let out a cute little yawn and I realized I had kept her up long enough. I gave her one last kiss and then turned and continued down the corridor. She watched me from her doorway with a sleepy smile until I was in the elevator and we managed to blow each other a kiss before the doors slid shut.

But I didn't go home. Instead I went into the alleyway beside her apartment building and scaled the brickwall to her bedroom window. I had no interest in sleep or getting up early in the morning. No interest in anything but her. By the time I got to her window she was taking off her clothes, which was a nice surprise. Pulling off her blouse and her bra, her nipples underneath still pink and swollen from the attentions of my mouth. I smiled and watched as she threw on a tanktop and some pants. She was smiling as well and my heart fluttered as she did a little pirouette before slipping into bed. I suppose I had made a favourable impression on her. You almost had to admire her restraint, refusing to go all the way until she was sure the relationship was for real. Such a quaint little girl. It's a shame I could never give her what she wanted but if I was careful I'm sure I could give her a taste of it. Her bedside lamp was on and she leaned out of the bed to turn it off. The room was snatched away in darkness and I allowed myself to relax a little in the corner of my window.

I stayed until the sun came up and watched as she rose to turn off the alarm on her phone. I smiled at her mussed hair, her sleepy eyes. Longing tugged at my heart as I wished I could've been there beside her as she woke up, my arms around her sleep-warm body, ready to greet her with a kiss. She peered at her phone for a minute or two and smiled when she saw the text I had sent her during the night. She made a quick reply, sitting there on the edge of the bed, and I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my jeans. I didn't check, I just continued to watch her as she rose and did a few stretches in the sunlight through the window. I had never seen her in the mornings before and I was quite delighted to find her morning routine included some yoga and light aerobics. I watched her hold her elbows and twist to each side, I watched her bend and touch her toes in her sweatpants. She did some sit ups and jumping jacks. Finally she shook herself off and ventured into the bathroom. I heaved a sigh from outside the window. As much as I would've loved to watch her shower as well, I couldn't see through walls and I suppose it was time to go home.

It was still fairly early by the time I got back to my apartment. I was still smiling from the sweet memories of last night but the smile turned quizzical when I saw some woman knocking on my apartment door. I approached her across the balcony and said:

"Hello? Do I know you?"

She turned to me and realized the apartment was mine. "My name is Esme Clearwater, I live downstairs," she said. "With my daughter Leah."

Crap. And the day had started off so well, too.

I looked again at this woman on my doorstep. Come to think of it, I did recall seeing her around. A slightly older woman, late thirties, caramel colored hair, kind of MILF-ish. Nice child bearing hips, big heavy boobs under a taupe-colored sweater. Her skin was much lighter than her daughter's, so you wouldn't assume they were related. She was frowning and waiting for a reply of some kind. I smiled as if this was a charming coincidence.

"Ah, yes, I think I met her the other day," I said. "Nice girl."

She didn't seem to agree about the nice girl part. Her frown went deeper and she adjusted her handbag nervously. "Yes, she mentioned you met. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

I thought as much. Well, I suppose I only had myself to blame. Still, teen ass was always worth a risk and perhaps I could bluff my way out of any wrong doing.

"Oh," I said. "I see. Would you like to come in, or…?"

I gestured at my apartment door but she shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't think that will be necessary." I nodded and waited for her to continue. She seemed very uncomfortable. In fact, those were her next words. "This may be uncomfortable," she said, "but I have to know the truth. And I'm certainly not going to get it from my own daughter, so here I am."

"Truth about what?"

She blushed and frowned even more. "Leah said that…that you invited her into your apartment that night, and…that the two of you…had sex. Is that true?"

I also offered her alcohol and shared a joint with her but admitting that wouldn't exactly help my case. Instead I acted as if these claims were a preposterous and slightly amusing surprise. "Um, no," I said in a chuckle. "It's not. I, uh…"

I trailed off, as if I was lost by the sheer absurdness of all this. Luckily she seemed eager to believe me, as if the real reason she had come here was to simply confirm her daughter's lie. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know this must be very uncomfortable, but you can understand why I need to know the truth."

"Of course," I said, "and I'm happy to assure you that absolutely nothing…like _that_ happened. If I had to guess, I'd say your daughter has greatly exaggerated the facts of the incident."

She nodded, allowing herself to be a little relieved. "I thought she might've. Could you tell me what really happened that night?"

"Well, I found her out here on the balcony and I noticed that she was…"

"That she was what?"

"Well, I hate to tattle on her, but she was smoking. Marijuana."

Her face darkened and she adjusted her handbag with a certain savageness. I suppose I could've omitted that part but asserting my own integrity was my primary concern.

"I see," she said. "She didn't mention that part."

I made a show of being hesitant and went on. "After that, well, I noticed the pride bracelet she was wearing and I had often heard loud arguments from her apartment downstairs. She seemed troubled, so I decided to talk to her. Being a lesbian myself, I felt sorry for her."

She nodded tersely. "Did she come into your apartment?"

"No, no, no, that would've been highly inappropriate. All I did was talk to her here on the balcony, same as I'm talking to you."

She sighed and shook her head. "Then I still have no idea where she was that night."

I watched her with interest. She actually seemed like a decent enough woman, not at all the monster her daughter led me to believe. Her eyes had drifted off to the pool that lay sparkling in the morning sunlight in the courtyard below and you could see quite clearly how much she worried about her daughter. I felt a tad sorry for her. I knew first hand just how poor her daughter's judgement could be, so I felt I should try and reassure her—and deflect any remaining suspicion away from me, of course.

"Well, perhaps she stayed with a friend?" I suggested. "I'm really not sure, all I know is that the last time I saw her, she was right here."

She snapped out of her anxiousness and flashed me a harried smile to apologize for disturbing me. "Well, I'm sorry to bother you. I just can't understand why she would lie to me about something like this."

"Maybe she doesn't understand how serious these kinds of accusations can be."

"She ought to, she's almost eighteen. Either way, I'm really sorry about this. I'll make sure Leah doesn't bother you again."

I nodded, although I doubted it. The woman gave me another smile and continued past me toward the stairs at the end of the balcony. She was wearing plain housejeans and I cocked my head to check out her ass. Not bad.

That day I had the follow up photo shoot with Rosalie. I suppose it was something to look forward to. After last night's frustrations with Alice perhaps a day with Rosalie—and hopefully the night as well—was exactly the thing I needed. Based on our first meeting, I was fairly confident she was interested in me. Despite being straight and engaged, she had clearly been excited by my not-so-subtle advances. She was right when she said we had great chemistry. Not only was she my equal in body measurements but she also had an air of confidence that rivalled my own. I admired that. She was clearly the kind of woman who made her own decisions and who's to say she won't make those decisions with me? In bed.

The shoot was scheduled outdoors at a health club uptown. James was delighted to see me, of course, and if I wasn't mistaken Rosalie was as well, eyeing me discreetly with a smile in the corner of her perfect mouth. The entire pool area had been reserved and soon Rosalie and I were clad in bikinis and posing about the poolside, me in black, her in white, each of us in a skimpy two piece that featured thong bottoms. James photographed us reclining on sunchairs or applying lotion to each other's back and shoulders in a sensuous massage. Finally we both jumped into the pool and got out again and posed for pictures with wet hair and wet bodies, relocating to the spa and wrapping our arms around each other's middles as the water flowed and churned around our bare legs in a whirlpool of a million small bubblekisses. The shoot was becoming quite intimate and while we were in the hot tub James called out from behind his camera for us to make out. We both knew the photos would be far to risqué to be used in the magazine but we did it anyway, moving our lips together and mashing them into a slow and sexy kiss. I was glad I hadn't bought Alice along this time. She might not've approved of this part.

The kiss had loosened her up somewhat and after the shoot was over we stood about the poolside in our bikinis with towels around our shoulders and chatted and flirted and flattered each other's bodies. A slight anxiousness was stealing over me. Soon the shoot would be over and I would have no other opportunities to seduce her. Somehow or other I had to secure another meeting, preferably naked at my apartment. The way things were going, however, it seemed like I might have to simply ask for her number, and I wasn't quite sure of my chances with that tactic. Whatever attraction she felt for me was skittish and easily frightened. I could've used a little luck, to be honest. James was talking to some of the crew and wrapping up the shoot as we spoke. Rosalie glanced in his direction and turned back to me.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," she said. "It was nice working with you. Maybe someday we can do it again."

I felt a spark. It sounded like an offer. She had the towel wrapped around her neck and her blonde hair was dark with water and her expression was one of studied boldness. I smiled and decided now was my chance.

"I'd like that," I said. "In fact, I happen to be an amateur photographer myself."

"Is that right?"

"Mmhm. Maybe we could arrange a private shoot at my apartment. Just the two of us. We could…explore our chemistry a little deeper. What do you think?"

I touched her arm suggestively, a light brush of my knuckles. She smiled at the touch and looked at me. Thinking. I wasn't sure if she was going to accept, but either way, the suspense was spoiled by the arrival of James.

"Ladies, ladies," he said, "such a pleasure to work with you. A tremendous shoot, as always. To celebrate, why don't I take you both out for drinks tonight?"

Rosalie backed away from me slightly, visibly cooling off. I exhaled through my nose and looked at this interruption who stood before us in his sleazy black suit. "You never give up, do you James?"

"On a woman like you? Never." He turned to Rosalie. "Ms Hale, help me out here. You're not as adverse to a good time as Bella is, are you? You could even bring that handsome fiancé of yours."

Rosalie had taken the towel from around her neck and she was dabbing at the ends of her hair. She looked at me, she looked at James. "He's busy tonight," she said.

James was pleased about that. I was pleased too.

"All the better," he said. "Tonight, then. At the Bayside Club. Ask for me at the door, they'll let you in."

He then gave us each a sleazy wink, turned, and went back to Victoria.

I sighed and turned to Rosalie. She had the towel in her hands and her breasts were bundled in the wet white cloth of her bikini. The air had cooled the water and you could see the faint shape of her hardened nipples. I took my own towel from around my shoulders and began patting down my chest.

"You gonna be there?" I asked.

She nodded casually. "Maybe," she said. "You?"

I gave her a slow and steady smirk.

"I just might," I said.

Funny how things work out. As much as I hated dear old James, I might owe the cretin a thank you card before the night was over.

It was late afternoon by the time I got back to my apartment. Alice and I had struck up a texting conversation during her lunch break that continued even as it got dark outside and I was getting ready for a date tonight with another woman. I would've been prepared to blow off my plans if she wanted to get together—Alice was certainly my priority—but it turned out she was busy that night. Apparently she had a family member with a birthday party where she was expected to make an appearance. Luckily our relationship wasn't quite advanced enough for me to meet her family yet, leaving me free to cheat on her—hopefully. So I said goodbye, added a bunch of hugs and kisses, and hopped into the shower.

But what to wear? Something sexy enough to entice Rosalie yet not so slutty as to give James and Victoria the wrong idea. I spent at least fifteen minutes flipping through my closet of cocktail dresses and finally I let good sense guide me toward a nice purple number, pale lavender in color and studded across the low neckline with a row of sequins. I admired it on the hanger for a little bit before laying it onto the bed and searching for some panties to match. I fully intended to get lucky tonight and I wanted her to find something special when she reached up my dress. I suspected it was going to be her first time with a girl—her eyes had that spark of new experience whenever I flirted with her—and I wanted to make a good impression on behalf of my orientation.

The dress was short and seemed even shorter once I slipped on my heels. I had already done my makeup and I took some time to examine myself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric against my hips and smiling at the long creamy expanse of my legs. My, my. What a dish. How will she ever resist? I struck a pose or two, tilting my hips provocatively this way and that, and then I grabbed up a purple purse of pebbled leather that I had selected for the evening—I had a whole collection for different occasions—and stuffed in my phone and some cash and a few other things, and finally—

There was a knock on the door.

_Alice?_

The thought came to me like a flutter in my heart. I couldn't think of anyone else who would be knocking on my door at this time of night. Could it be possible that her plans had changed and she had come to surprise me? For some reason, the thought filled me with joy. I was all dressed up to hunt but I would've gladly forfeited it all for a night with Alice. Especially if she had anything physical in mind. Still, I couldn't let her see me in a cocktail dress after I had told her I was spending the night at home—and it might not even be her—so I called out first.

"Who is it?"

"It's Leah," said a sullen voice.

Shit. First the mother, now the daughter.

I sighed but there was no use procrastinating. I opened the door and I was confronted by an angry-looking teenage girl who already had her mouth open for some pre-prepared fury.

"What the fuck did you…"

But then she saw my dress, my legs, the makeup on my face, and she lost her train of thought for a moment. It took her a few blinks to regain it.

"…did you say to my mom?" she concluded, with much less edge in her voice than when she started.

I stood in the doorway with my hand on the doorknob, regarding her with a cool and collected poise. "I told her the truth," she said. "The truth that me and you had agreed to. That you spent the night with a friend."

"You told her I was smoking."

"Yes, well, by painting you as the delinquent I thought it would make my own case more plausible."

That made her angry again. "You didn't have to tell her that," she said. "I thought you were supposed to be all supportive and understanding? And then you go and rat me out to my mother? How could you? What the fuck is your problem?"

I raised my eyebrows and even smiled slightly. Teenagers have such a wonderful capacity for self-involvement, don't they? I took my hand off the doorknob and held up a finger as if to tick of some points I was about to make. "First of all, your mother showed up at _my_ door. I didn't go looking for her. Second of all, she came here because _you_ told her that you slept with me. Do you even realize the trouble you could've gotten me into?"

Her brows puckered sullenly, as if it wasn't really fair that something might be her own fault. "I didn't mean to tell her," she said, still with an accusatory tone. "She just kept bitching at me and bitching at me about where I was that night and she was threatening to call all my friends."

"It was still an incredibly stupid thing to do."

"Oh, really? What about seducing a minor? How stupid was that?"

"I didn't seduce a minor. I have no idea what you're talking about."

The coolness of how I denied it seem to take most of the wind out of her sails. As if it kind of hurt. She looked down at my bare legs and away again politely. When she looked up, there was the briefest glimmer of vulnerability in her dark and mascaraed eyes.

"I thought you were trying to be nice to me," she said.

"I was," I told her. "It was you who messed up."

She shook her head, presumably at herself. She obviously wasn't the kind of girl who liked to take responsibility for her own decisions but in this case I think she understood. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to."

I sighed and checked the time on my phone. The cab would be here any minute. "Well, it looks like your mother isn't going to make any problems," I said. "So I guess where all good. Either way, you shouldn't be here. What if your mother comes looking for you and sees you talking to me like this?"

She looked back down the balcony as if her mother might appear right now. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to come by and apologize."

I resisted the urge to facepalm. She hadn't come to apologize. She had come to yell and accuse me of things. And, subconsciously, I suspected she also came because she still liked me, couldn't forget me, and seized the first excuse she could to come talk to me. It was sweet, in a way. I would file away this information for later consideration but right now I had a date. I put a hand on her shoulder and bent slightly to give her a warm smile—and a peek at my sequined cleavage.

"Listen," I said. "Go home, okay? Your mother seems like a nice enough chick. I'm sure you two will work it out. Don't make her worry about you any more than she already is, alright?"

She nodded. I stepped out of the apartment and closed the door, locking it with my key. She took another look at my dress, lingering there on the balcony.

"So where you going?" she asked.

"I have a date."

"Is she hot?"

She asked with a little smirk. I tossed my hair arrogantly.

"Extremely," I said. "Go home, okay?"

She nodded, blushing slightly, and I turned and continued down the balcony. When I reached the stairs, she was still standing there.

It was a fairly short cab ride to the renown Bayside Club, the kind of nightclub frequented by high class party animals and minor celebrities. The bouncer had a clipboard and found my name under the Mather's party quickly enough, allowing me to bypass the line of trendy young people in clubwear that reached to the sidewalk. The interior was pulsing with red laserlights and a hypnotic dancetrack to which the dancefloor heaved with women in brightly colored cocktail dresses and high heels, dancing in pairs or small groups or with boyfriends. Perhaps it was my old age but I'd never quite been able to enjoy places like these. It was just so…noisy. It was enough to make you nostalgic for ballrooms and orchestras and gossip about the other guests. Or perhaps a quiet evening at home with a of bottle wine and a special someone—like Alice.

I smiled to myself and continued around the dancefloor. Alice had been on my mind so much lately.

James and company were in a private alcove that overlooked the dancefloor complete with couches and coffeetables and a private bar. He greeted me boisterously, as if I'd come just to see him. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn at the shoot. Meanwhile every woman in the room had no doubt spent hours getting ready. Men's fashion made me sick with how practical it was. Lucky bastards. He had thrown his arm around my shoulders and forced a glass of champagne on me before sitting me down between him and Victoria. Victoria was wearing a sexy red dress and she was already half-drunk. She threw a bare leg over mine and purred in my ear. James grinned and put a hand on her thigh, enclosing me between them. I began to feel uncomfortable. I mean, really.

I had been looking around for Rosalie and I saw her at the small private bar, poised on a stool and bathed in pink neon. She had noticed me as well and she kept glancing. There were two men hovering about her but she didn't seem to find them all that interesting. She was wearing a slinky white dress with a slit in the side that revealed her crossed legs. She looked like a bride who wanted to go clubbing. Her hair was arranged in a stylish nest of blonde atop her head, leaving her neck bare. The detail of her naked neck caused a throb of hunger in my stomach. And white, the color of purity. Such a perfect arrangement, aside from the fact that she wasn't Alice. By now her two admirers had drifted away and she was all alone. I smiled at James and Victoria and began the process of excusing myself, peeling their body parts away from me and insulting them playfully. Luckily, they didn't miss me for long. As soon as I was gone, Victoria lunged at him in a kiss and James jerked down the neckline of her dress to grab her tit. Such a sophisticated couple.

Rosalie was watching me approach and she turned to greet me, studying my dress with her eyes. I sat beside her and ordered something to drink, champagne like her. The conversation began innocently enough, with some judgmental jabs at James and Victoria along with regrets that we had even came in the first place, thereby establishing that the only reason we came at all was to see each other. Neither said it out loud, of course, but you could see in her eyes and she could see it in mine. She sipped her champagne. I studied her neck, watching her throat swallow. She lowered the glass, the music pounding in our ears. I could tell she had already decided to sleep with me but a girl always likes to be seduced. She had made a remark about the material of my dress and I told her to feel it. She smiled and kneaded a pinch of the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. She was using her left hand and I noticed her engagement ring. Platinum band, nice diamond. I smiled.

"So tell me more about this fiancé of yours," I said, deciding to find out how willing she really was.

She didn't seem ruffled to be reminded that technically she was taken. In fact, she seemed excited. She let go of my dress and glanced at the ring and back at me. "What do you want to know?"

"Is he a jealous man?"

"Do you know many men who aren't?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know many men at all, and the ones I do are certainly no great examples of the species. Like dear James over there."

We glanced over at James. Victoria was nibbling his ear while he made some sexist comment to the waitress and plucked at her skirt. At least Victoria had put her boob back in her dress. I shook my head and turned back to Rosalie. Rosalie smiled and gave a shrug.

"At least he knows how to have a good time," she said.

I smiled and sipped my drink. "So do I," I said. "Does your fiancé?"

"Not lately."

"You mentioned he's very busy."

"He is."

"That must get very lonely for you."

"Sometimes."

I sipped again, smiling at her. She sipped as well, pensive, her mind wandering for a moment.

"It's not that I get lonely," she said. "It's that sometimes I wonder how serious he really is. He keeps telling me how much he loves me, but…"

She trailed off, brushing the subject away with a sweep of her hand across the lap of her dress. For the first time I felt a flicker of something more than hunger. Affection, perhaps.

"May I see the ring?" I asked.

She lifted her hand. I took it by the fingers, as if to seek a better angle. I peered at the ring while she sipped her champagne with her other hand. I smiled.

"It's beautiful," I said. "Almost as beautiful as you."

She stopped sipping. She lowered the glass with a smile. I hadn't let go of her hand and I didn't let go now.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That was very cheesy, wasn't it?"

"A little."

"Would it be even cheesier if I said you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life?"

"That depends. Do you mean it?"

"From the bottom of my heart."

She tried not to smile but she couldn't help it. She was even blushing. "Usually it annoys me when people say things like that. But from someone like you, it feels…really flattering."

I smiled and caressed her fingers, still holding her hand. She glanced at it and her smile tilted into a smirk. She lifted the smirk to me.

"You gonna give me my hand back?" she asked.

"Nope," I said. "Wanna dance?"

She took a moment to think about it, as if to decide if I was allowed to be that assertive, and then she took up her glass, swallowed the remainder, and set the glass back on the bar.

"Okay," she said.

I rose from the stool with her hand still in mine and led her by it out onto the dancefloor underneath the red neon.

—

It was two in the morning by the time we got back to my apartment. Our dresses were crumpled on the bedroom floor along with our shoes and panties and already I had my face buried between her thighs, licking her firmly and fast and making her moan and open her legs wider. But it was far too soon to make her come just yet and soon I relocated my mouth to her own, tonguing her deeply as my hand stroked her side and cupped her breast and slid back down to the area between her legs, rubbing at the entrance of her vagina with my fingers and making her wetter and wetter. Her fingers wove into my hair as I shifted my mouth to her nipples, sucking at one then the other, licking at those stiff little nubs and nipping at them playfully. My hand by now was slathered with her arousal and her moans were becoming very loud. I teased her with a few more kisses, probing at her vagina with my fingers. She was breathing deeply and her entire back arched off the mattress as I slipped two fingers inside her. She groaned, her head tossing, and I quickly dipped my head between her thighs and sucked on her clit till she came.

I smiled at her sweaty form as she collected herself, her glazed eyes fluttering open and a smile moving over her smeared red lips. I stroked the hair away from her damp forehead and kissed her some more, straddling her leg and rubbing my own wet pussy against her kneecap. Her hands were stroking my back for a while and then they cupped my butt and squeezed it. She breathed into my mouth and told me how she couldn't believe she was doing this and how she had never been attracted to another woman so much in her life. I moaned and rubbed my body into hers more aggressively. She moaned as well, squirming as I repositioned myself to dip my nipples into her open mouth, causing her to suck on them eagerly and squeeze them and massage them. Finally she flipped me over onto my back, her mouth still attached to one of my nipples, and sucked on them a little more before dipping her head between my thighs. No hesitation. Her tongue lashed out across the slick wet folds of my vagina and she moaned and mashed her lips and continued to eat me out until I came with a loud cry. She continued to lick at my pussy for a while, apparently quite taken with it, and then she crawled across my body and straddled my face, so horny that she had to come just one more time. I obliged her by hooking my arms around her thighs and lifting my mouth to her pussy, gazing up at her perfect body and watching her perfect breasts heave and sway as she rubbed her hips into my face, until finally she threw back her head and came.

She rode the orgasm until it faded away and then she opened her eyes and looked down at me, panting, ragged, her styled blonde bun in disarray about her head. I smiled up at her from between her knees and placed a kiss onto her sexy wet pussy. She swallowed heavily, her face crinkling as is she suddenly couldn't remember what she was doing here, and dismounted hastily.

Well. Isn't that typical?

I had seen this kind of behaviour before, lots of times. They get lost in the seduction and enthralled in the sex and afterwards they realize that oh my god I just fucked a girl. Although I hadn't been expecting it from a woman like Rosalie. She seemed far too confident and poised to have second thoughts about anything, and yet here she was, leaping off the bed and hurrying back into her panties.

I sighed and propped up on an elbow. What a way to spoil a nice night.

"You're not going to stay?" I asked her.

She didn't look at me, she just shook her head and bent in her panties to fetch up her dress. "I can't."

"Why not? Is your fiancé expecting you?"

I admit, I might've said that a little harshly. She glanced at me, frowning, holding the dress in her hands against her body. She looked confused and angry, as if something had occurred in the bed that she hadn't been expecting. I didn't want her to leave like this so I got out of the bed and took the dress from her gently before she could put it on.

"Wait a second, wait a second," I said. "Do you really have to leave so quickly? Can't we talk for a little bit?"

She covered her breasts with a forearm. "About what?"

About biting her neck, to be quite honest. I couldn't say that, though, and yet the hunger struck me dumb for a minute. I blinked at her. So sexy. So perfect. Um…

Her frown softened but she took her dress back. "Look," she said. "I like you and I had a lot of fun, but…I'm engaged."

"Then why did you even come home with me?"

"You know why."

"Is that the only reason?"

She was putting her dress on and she didn't reply. She zipped it up.

"Come on," I said, one last plea even though I knew it wasn't going to happen. "You could at least sleep here and sneak out in the morning to save me the embarrassment."

She smiled at my half-joke. She might've even been a little flattered that I seemed to want more from her than sex, although she would've been less flattered if she knew it was her blood I wanted as well. She had taken her earrings off and she was tucking them into her purse. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I really have to go. Thanks, though. I really did have a lot of fun."

My heart sank. Why was I having so much trouble with women lately?

I sighed and wrapped a bedsheet around my body and once she was dressed I walked her to the door to let her out. She had called a cab and she had let down her hair and she was carrying her shoes under one arm. We stood on the balcony outside my apartment, me in the doorway. Deep in the nightsky there was a tiny sliver of crescent moon among the stars. My stomach throbbed with hunger sullenly. I sighed and turned back to Rosalie.

"Can I at least kiss you goodnight?" I asked.

She hesitated, a slight blush on her cheeks, and finally rolled her eyes. "If you have to."

I smirked at her nonchalance and decided to give her a kiss she wouldn't forget. I cupped her neck with the one hand that wasn't holding up the sheet and applied my lips to hers, slowly, deliberately, longingly. She stiffened slightly but only slightly. In one hand she had her purse and in the other she had her shoes and there was no way for her to resist. She let her mouth fall open, surrendering for a moment, and I let my tongue inside, caressing her neck and moaning softly at the steady throb of her pulse under my palm. She let me kiss her for at least a full minute, lost in it perhaps, and when I released her it took her a moment for her to open her eyes. I smiled and placed one last peck on her lips.

"If you're ever feeling experimental again," I said. "You know how to get my number."

She nodded, releasing her neck from my hands. She swallowed heavily and smiled almost shyly at the offer. "I'll keep it in mind," she said, and then she turned away and went down the balcony.

I sighed and closed the door.

I was feeling pretty despondent as I trudged back into my bedroom and let the sheet drop. The thought occurred to me to follow her home and break into her apartment while she was sleeping but then I remembered she lived with her fiancé and presumably shared a bed with him. Besides, it wouldn't be the same as having her here, in my own bed, spent and satisfied and squirming softly in her sleep while I fed from her ever so delicately. Oh well. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though. I knew from the beginning it would only be a one night stand, and a same-sex one at that. It's natural she wouldn't want to stay over. The sex was good, at least. Fantastic, really. Even if I didn't get to feed from her, at least she put out. Which is more than I could say for Alice. That saucy little thing.

Oh, Alice. How much longer must I wait? I pouted and noticed my panties and dress laying on the floor. I left the panties there but I scooped up my dress and slipped it on, zipping it up and smoothing it down. I had a sudden urge to see Alice. I could have taken my car but I was in a vampiric mood, and so I opened my bedroom window and climbed out, descending into the dark garden below and leaping the fence, crossing the street in a liquid dash like a cat and coming out of the far alley in a leap that took me to a rooftop where I landed in a crouch in my dress and heels. I breathed in the night air and looked up at the moon. That small slice of white all lonely in the sky. I knew how it felt.

Within minutes I was at her apartment building, scaling the far wall and bounding over the airducts on the roof and down again on the far side. I came to her bedroom window, perched there upside down. I could see her, a dark shape in the bed, and my chest began to throb. Normally I would content myself with the view from out here but this time I lifted my hand and flicked my wrist and unlocked the window through some magic or telekinesis, something innate that just happened. She didn't appear to have heard the click of the latch but I waited a moment and then I lifted the window and crawled in upside down before dropping silently to the carpet like a shadow.

She was facing me in her sleep, laying sideways on the pillow with the covers drawn up under her chin. I knelt there at her bedside and watched her until my eyes got used to the darkness. I could see her face, the shape of her nose, her lips, her cheeks. Her scent was soft in the air and I closed my eyes to inhale it. I opened my eyes again and smiled at how cute she was. I touched her brow with my fingertips, softly, gently. I wondered if she would be creeped out if she knew I was here, or she would understand the pull I felt toward her, the supernatural magnetism of her scent, her body, her pretty face. I brushed a short black lock away from her forehead but quickly withdrew my hand as she stirred with a soft moan. But she didn't wake. Oh, Alice. My stomach was throbbing and I realized it would be so easy to just remove those covers and crawl into the bed and carefully let my fangs into her skin and—

No. No. I could never do that. I had strict rules about these things. Consent was paramount. I could never acquire consent to actually bite a girl's neck, of course, but sex was close enough for my conscience. Until then…I would have to wait. But that was okay. Alice would be worth it. I enjoyed the slow courtship. It took me back to my regency days, when girls were ladies even if something kinkier was lurking just beneath the smiles and batted eyelashes. I smiled in the dark and touched her brow again with the backs of my knuckles, letting the hunger and anticipation build. It was too bad I didn't get to feed from Rosalie tonight but it didn't matter. I didn't need Rosalie or Leah or anyone else. What I really needed was Alice. Sweet, lovely, adorable little Alice. I leaned and stole a single kiss from her lips. She stirred and sighed in her sleep.

—


	6. Chapter 6

—

Chapter 6:

—

By the end of the week I was due to feed again—which left me torn. Alice and I had our date tomorrow, the date where I promised to take her dancing in that sexy black dress I bought her. It was going to be a wonderful night, a night full of music and close contact and alcoholic beverages. And by the end of it, who knows. Perhaps she would be ready to take me home or to come home with me. To take off that sexy black dress and let me have my way with her delicious body at last.

But what if she wouldn't be ready? That was my main concern. To be honest, I had no way to even predict her readiness. She was like a rare and delicate flower: how was one to even guess when her heart would be nurtured to the point where her legs would bloom willingly? By logic, she would've given it up long ago. It was clear that she liked me. And that I liked her. We had been on dates and made out and fondled each other's boobs. At this point in our relationship, sex was the next logical step, was it not?

One would think so, and yet…I wasn't sure. Despite the overwhelming attraction we felt for each other—particularly on my side—there seemed to be an element of time to consider. After all, we had only known each other two weeks. How long did common principle require we keep our panties on? A month? Two months? God, I hoped not. The wait had already been unendurable, and I had been raised in an era where ladies were taught to preserve their virginity through four year engagements until their very wedding night and even then they were discouraged to enjoy it.

Oh, Alice. When oh when would you finally be ready?

I agonized over the decision long and hard, but in the end, I decided to err on the side of caution. I could not reliably count on her being ready after our date. And I could not count on myself to control myself if she should refuse. I'm not saying I would attack her, of course. My hunger rarely manifested in violence. But if she should refuse, I'm not sure if I could restrain myself from being at least a little snippy. And I'd hate to begin resenting her. After all, it wasn't her fault she was dating a lusty demoness who yearned only for her blood. In many ways, her feelings were perfectly reasonable. Even admirable. Therefore, it was up to me to accommodate them. Which meant I had only one choice: feed from someone else beforehand.

It would be for the best. By taking the edge off my hunger the night before, it would allow me to simply enjoy her company without pawing at her inappropriately or ripping her dress off in the middle of the dancefloor. I think she would appreciate that. It would also spare me the brunt disappointment at the end of the night when she will likely demure out of sex once again. I couldn't be sure she would but I had a feeling. A hunch. You could see it in her eyes or hear it in her giggle. She was ready, oh yes—but not quite.

And so, some other woman would have to suffice for the while. But who? I wasn't in any mood to go hunting. Most of my energies were exhausted on Alice. My thoughts ran to Rosalie, but I had no way to get in contact with her, and no assurance that I would have the opportunity to feed from her. I considered little Leah, as well, but after meeting her mother I'm not sure I would be comfortable corrupting the misguided teenager any further. But what about…Victoria? Hmm, now that did sound intriguing. Victoria would actually be quite perfect for my purposes; a skank, a snack, a woman who doesn't mind being used and abused and set aside. A woman who even seemed to like it. She would be both easy and uncomplicated, and as a bonus, I actually liked her a little.

So I gave her a call and asked if she was up for a booty call. She tried to wheedle James into the deal, of course, but I told her I was only interested in her. She sounded slightly disappointed, as if sex with only one person was slightly beneath her, but she agreed to meet me at a bar.

The bar was called the Dalloway, the same place where I had arranged to meet Alice the first time. It was a lesbian bar that was rather romantic and understated, the kind of placed you'd take a girlfriend for a few quiet drinks or where you might meet another likeminded single. The lighting was dim and the only music was a quiet piano recording. There were couples of various ages sitting at tables or in booths, huddled closely in intimate conversation above the romantic tablelamps. Victoria was sitting at the bar. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans and from behind you could see a thong angling into her ass above the waistband. She was looking about with her nose wrinkled, as if such an establishment wasn't quite trashy enough for her standards.

She saw me coming and gave me a frown. "Hey," she said. "This bar sucks."

"Ah, Victoria," I said, leaning to kiss both her cheeks. "So nice to see you."

She was still looking around in thinly vailed contempt. "They don't even have a dancefloor," she said in the same tone one might observe that they didn't have any restrooms.

"That's true," I said, and then I smirked at her. "But who said I wanted to dance with you?"

The smirk was something that set her at ease and she gave me one back. "Well, when you put it _that_ way…"

I sat down and the bartender asked what I wanted. Victoria was drinking a beer. Ick. Now her mouth would be bitter. I ordered a glass of wine. Victoria swallowed down the last of her beer and ordered another.

The bartender bought our drinks and Victoria waited for her to go. She actually seemed a little nervous, as if she had never been in a gay bar before and wasn't quite comfortable.

"So when we getting out of here?" she asked.

"Soon," I said. "I just thought we could have a couple drinks together and catch up."

She nodded and then something occurred to her. "Good idea—actually, I was glad you called. There's a couple jobs I wanted to talk to you about. We need a few models for a couple shoots coming up and you're the first one who came to mind. Interested?"

"Perhaps," I said. "Although I'd hate to think you're coercing me into bed by offering me work."

She grinned. "Hey, you're the one who called me. If anything, I'm the one who should be suspicious of you sleeping your way into jobs."

I smiled and sipped my wine. "Well, let's not talk about work right now and we won't argue about it."

"Fair enough. So what do you want to talk about?"

"Let's talk about having a couple more drinks and going back to my place."

"Suits the fuck out of me," she said.

I smiled with a mouthful of wine and swallowed. Suits me too.

In the end, I only had the one glass before we left. We chatted for a little bit at the bar and made some small talk and I was surprised by how she never mentioned Alice. Perhaps she had forgotten meeting her at the shoot I had bought her too. Otherwise you'd think she'd at least inquire as to why I was cheating on the poor thing. If she knew, perhaps she might've even refused to allow me the opportunity, although I somehow doubted her morals would've stretched that far.

Victoria had taken a cab so I drove her back to my place in my car. It was still fairly early. Only about nine o'clock, which meant we would have quite a few hours to ourselves. I had a feeling she would be in for a treat. Perhaps I would be as well. Victoria was a sexy woman with a great deal of raw sexuality. The kind of woman who just likes to fuck. Similar to myself, although from a much lower class.

It was the first time she had been to my apartment. I let her in through the front door and she went wandering into the living room. She nodded at the wall of photographs that showcased my various shoots and did a slow spiral to take in the white leather furniture, the glass coffeetable, the clean and pristine spotlessness of the entire apartment.

"So," she said. "This is the ho pad, huh?"

I smiled and tossed my keys into a bowl I kept on the sideboard. "Something like that," I said. "Speaking of ho, would you mind if I asked you to take a shower before we…retire to the bedroom?"

Her brow puckered. "A shower? What for?"

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I'd rather not have my mouth anyplace where James's residue may be lingering."

She cringed and grinned at the same time. "That's insane," she said. "And insulting. What do you think I am, some kind of skank?"

"Yes, precisely," I said. "Would you disagree?"

She snorted a chuckle and shook her head. "Fine, whatever," she said. "Let's just hurry, I'm horny."

She pulled off her top and went in search of the bathroom.

I followed but I didn't hurry. Hurrying wasn't my style. I was a slow and methodical kind of lover. Thoroughness is what I liked and I had a feeling she was going to like it too. I wasn't sure if she had ever had sex with just another woman before, one on one, but if she hadn't, she was in for a pleasant surprise, especially in my own capable hands. She had unbuttoned her jeans and dropped them to the bathroom floor. Her legs were long and pale, similar to mine. Her bra next, revealing two huge and pale boobs. I smiled at her as I reached into the shower to turn the water on. Her body had its own sort of slutty deliciousness and I couldn't wait to eat her up.

We showered together, which was one of my preferred methods of foreplay. Victoria seemed to like it as well. She told me that she'd only ever had sex in the shower with dudes but maybe this was better because dudes didn't have big soapy boobs. I kissed her under the water, tasting her mouth and lips. Her lips were full and luscious, like the rest of her body, so soft and succulent. I fondled her ass a little bit, mashing our wet tits together. It was actually quite a nice meaty ass. I gave it a squeeze and felt up every nook and cranny. Especially her cranny. She was getting quite horny and aggressive, grinning through the steam and grinding her chest into mine and gripping my breasts in her heads before dipping her head to suck on my nipples. She lowered herself all the way to her knees and began eating me out with the water pounding on her head, her red hair dark and wet and stuck to her pale body. I was pleased with how eager she was but I told her not to get carried away just yet. She smiled up at me and gave me a teasing lick, her face wet and beautiful.

I took her out of the shower and we cooled down a little as we patted ourselves dry. She kept telling me to hurry in a playfully pleading voice, squirming her hips like an impatient little girl. I told her to relax; we had all night.

I lit some candles in the bedroom, just a few of them for mood lighting. Victoria was talking about toys but I said I'm more of a natural kind of girl. She climbed into the bed and told me I better be good because she hardly ever came from just oral. I blew out the match and smiled. I turned to her, my naked body bathed in candlelight. She smirked at me, watching as I came over and got into the bed. I straddled her and leaned to her face. I told her I would be the best she ever had. She smiled and didn't reply, suspecting perhaps that might be true. I placed my lips on hers and began kissing her. I kissed her a long time, slowly heating it up and adding tongue and hands and rubbing my body into hers, letting her feel my silkiness. I played with her tits, licking them and kissing them and sucking at her nipples. She was soon moaning and spreading her legs. The area between her thighs was slick with arousal and she groaned as I inserted two fingers into her. I teased her with a couple jabs of my fingers and asked her if James had ever made her moan like that. Her face was flushed and sweaty and she smiled and clenched her vagina on my fingers and told me that James would already be asleep by now. I smiled and kissed her and then I moved my mouth down between her legs.

I ate her out slowly and leisurely, like a fine dessert. I doubt she had ever been savoured like this before and she seemed to enjoy it, arching her back and squirming and tossing her head, her heels planted into the mattress with me facefirst between her thighs, licking, lapping, sucking at her delicious moisture. Her climax was soon approaching and I drew it out as long as possible before triggering it with a savage suck at her engorged clitoris. She cried out and the cry chopped off in silence as she arched up off the mattress like a woman electrocuted.

Then finally she flopped, sweaty and spent. She was laughing and saying oh my god over and over. She closed her wet thighs and rubbed them together. I laid down beside her and teased her until she opened her eyes, smiling. She said that was pretty awesome. I kissed her lips and told her it was my pleasure. Then I continued to kiss her, easing her onto her back. She went willingly, her bones like jelly. I kissed her for a long time, feeding my own horniness until she was ready to do me. Finally she flipped me over onto my back. She rubbed at my vagina with her fingers and smiled at me and warned me that she hadn't had much practice going down on girls. I told her most chicks were naturals, whether they had any practice or not. She supposed that was true and she chuckled and kissed me and moved her head down. I opened my thighs and watched as her tongue passed across my wet entrance for the first time, allowing a low and pleasurable moan to come out of my chest. She seemed to be digging the slowness by now and she took her time much the same way I had taken my time with her, licking and lapping at my wetness until the climax grew into an orgasm that swept over me like a wave. It wasn't as powerful as the one she had experienced but it was more than enough to satisfy.

Afterwards we went for another shower to wash away all the sweatiness and I told her to get back into bed while I fetched us something to drink. I found a bottle of water and a bottle of wine and I bought them both back into the bedroom. We shared the water between us in a matter of gulps and then sat up in the bed, completely naked with only the sheets covering our laps, and passed the wine bottle back and forth and talked about how great we were. Then something else occurred to her.

"Oh hey," she said. "I just remembered. What about that girl you bought to the studio the other day?"

Ah, now she remembers. A little late but perhaps it would lead to interesting conversation. I took the wine bottle from her and lifted it for a sip. "Alice," I said. "Her name was Alice."

"Yeah, her. I thought you guys were dating, what happened?"

"Nothing happened. Actually, we're getting together tomorrow night. We're going dancing. I even bought her a dress."

"So you're still dating?"

"Mmhm."

She seemed confused. Her orange eyebrows puckered. "So if you have a girlfriend," she said. "Why the hell did you call me?"

I shrugged a naked shoulder and offered the bottle. "I needed a booty call," I said. "Alice and I still haven't even had sex yet. She wants to wait until she's sure about me."

She took the bottle but she didn't drink. She set it in her lap, smiling in mild confusion as if something didn't quite make sense here, and said:

"Wait, so let me get this straight. She's waiting until she can be sure about you…and here you are cheating on her?"

I nodded and lowered myself to a pillow, stretching out on the mattress. "That's how it turned out, yes."

"Wow," she said. "That's low."

I smiled up at her where she sat with the bottle in her lap, her exposed boobs all fat and orange in the candlelight. "Isn't that a little hypocritical?" I asked. "Coming from you?"

"Me and James aren't dating. We're just fucking."

"I suppose."

"Seriously, though. I mean, what the fuck's wrong with you? How can you just cheat on your girlfriend for no reason at all?"

I sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. The problem was, I _did_ have a reason. It was called blood. "I'm not sure," I said. "It is rather unfair on her, isn't it?"

She snorted and took one last swig of wine before leaning to set it on the nightstand. Then she surprised me by laying down beside me on the same pillow, pulling the covers up over us.

"Well, I guess I can't judge," she said, letting her tone go soft. "I'm just surprised. I never knew you were this kind of person."

"You'd be surprised what kind of person I really am."

"I guess so."

I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close. Her nakedness settled against mine. I sensed we were having some kind of moment and it felt nice. The room was filled with warmth and candlelight and the lingering scent of her pheromones and soon, soon…

"Stay the night with me," I whispered. "It'll be like a slumber party."

She snorted again and cuddled up to me. "Fine," she said. "Actually, this is kind of nice. It's been a while since I had sex without any clothes on. Usually I hardly even peel aside my panties."

"Yes. You're not a skank at all."

"Hey. At least I'm not cheating on anyone."

I chuckled to myself. That was actually true. Despite my scorn for Victoria and James and their whorish ways, it was hard to argue that my own habits of sluttery weren't even lower. But oh well. At least I could take comfort in the knowledge that it was simply my nature. My curse. My lovely burden.

Victoria was nestling her head against mine on the pillow. "But it's alright," she went on. "I'm not going to judge you or anything. I actually like you. So call me any time you want, okay? I'm down for booty calls whenever."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"And if you want James to join in…"

"Ugh."

She chuckled and rubbed her thigh against my body under the covers. "Fine," she said. "Your loss. But how about next time we use a strapon or something? Or are you so anti-male you won't even keep bananas in the house?"

"Don't worry, I'm well versed with a variety of different toys. I just prefer oral."

"I guess a lot of you lesbians do."

"Not all. But some, yes. Personally, it's always felt most natural to me to express my love with my mouth."

"Love? Since when are we in love?"

"Not you, silly. I meant my love for the female body. For sex." _For blood._

"I think that's more like lust."

"You may be right."

She chuckled softly under my arm and already I could feel her drifting to sleep. The candle on the nightstand had burnt down to a nub and I watched it for a moment as it was reflected in the dark glass of the wine bottle beside it. My fangs were elongating in my mouth and I used my tongue to toy with them while I waited for the woman beside me to sleep. And then, tomorrow, I would be satisfied in both body and blood and I would be able to treat Alice with the delicacy she deserves.

—


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Just wanted to mention quickly that in chapter three Bella bought Alice a dress that was black, but in this chapter I've decided the dress is pink. I went back and edited it as well.**

—

Chapter 7:

—

The next day I knocked on Alice's door at least an hour early for our date. She answered it still in her streetclothes and smiled at me in surprise, first at my face and then at my red silk dancing dress.

"Bella, wow, hey—what are you doing here so early?"

"I came to help you get ready. Is that okay?"

She seemed surprised and delighted and she held the door open for me to enter. I sauntered past with my purse tucked under my arm. I knew this would be a better idea than spying on her through her window.

"Yeah, sure," she said, swinging closed the door and still checking me out. "I was just about to jump in the shower."

I flashed her a smile. "Perfect."

She took me into her room but unfortunately I wasn't exactly allowed to watch her shower. Instead I set out the dress that I had bought her earlier in the week and waited, listening to the stream of water in the next room with visions of her wet nakedness dancing through my head. I had laid the dress on the bed and I was once again struck by how perfect it would look on her. Pink, pretty, spaghetti strapped and so scandalously short. The waist was pinched very tightly and it looked so small and childlike laid out on the bed but soon the material would stretch and conform to every contour of Alice's body perfectly.

Soon the water turned off and moments later Alice came back into the room. She was wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. The towel was pink like the dress and it had about the same coverage as well. She came over to the bed and admired the dress and thanked me again for buying it for her. I told her it was no problem and that in fact I had one more present for her. She asked what it was. I was unlatching my purse and with a flourish I revealed a pair of pink-lace panties to match the dress. It was a bold move but she seemed to appreciate it. She grinned and blushed and snatched them out of my hand and then she went to take off the towel. My heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of her body's unveiling but with a smirk she paused and told me to turn around. I pouted but did so, gazing out the window at the brickwall outside and lamenting how my plan backfired. But that's okay. I liked how she teased me. I liked it a lot.

By the time I could look again, she had her underwear and her dress on and she was smoothing it down against her body. I gave her a hand, adjusting her shoulders straps and bobbing down to adjust the hem. Then I stepped back and admired her as she struck a pose. She looked perfect, all pink and bright like a big piece of delicious bubblegum. My stomach was already rolling with hunger and I couldn't wait to finally get my teeth in her. Finally. Tonight. Hopefully.

After that I did her makeup for her, nice and slow so we could chat about the club we were going to and so I could admire her pretty features. Until she had to stop talking while I did her lipstick, gently brushing the glossy wax to her soft full mouth. She tried hard not to grin too widely and when I was done she giggled.

"What's so funny?" I asked, smiling.

"Nothing," she said brightly. "I was just thinking. It's already romantic and the date hasn't even started yet."

I capped the lipstick and put it away. She pursed her lips, as if to taste the lipstick, and smiled.

"I guess you're working hard to get me to put out," she said.

"Not at all," I said. "This is just me being me."

I placed a kiss on her lips. She giggled again.

"Well, it's working," she said.

I smiled and zipped up her makeup case, glancing at the eagerness in her eyes. Good. That was good.

Neither of us would be drinking too much that night—it was tricky enough to dance in just heels—so we took my car to the club instead of a cab. It was a salsa club with the breathtakingly imaginative title of La Salsa Club. The manager had clearly put a lot of thought in that one. Alice was still nervous about her lack of dance experience but I assured her as I drove that it was quite a casual club and there would be no reason to be embarrassed after I showed her the basics. I was particularly looking forward to teaching her the rumba—the dance of love and lust—but I had to admit I was eager to engage her in the horizontal mumbo later that night as well.

It was a fairly small club with no line and we were admitted right away, stepping through a door and into a place where Latin music trumpeted across a dancefloor where couples twirled and spun under a blaze of red neon in a fever of cha chas. Alice looked impressed and daunted at the same time as we moved through the club, staring at the dancers, smiling. There was an alcove overlooking the dancefloor where I had reserved a table and we ordered some drinks and a light dinner of asadillo de pimientos and a nice gazpacho andaluz.

Our table was right by the balcony and while we ate we watched the dancers below, Alice still somewhat in amazement at how talented they all seemed to be. I explained to her that many of them were, in fact, professionals who came here for a good time. Alice nodded and continued to watch and at one point the floor parted in a circle around one particular couple as the couple composed an impromptu solo performance that culminated in a spectacular looking lift that raised the woman over the man's head to an enthusiastic smattering of cheers and applause from the spectators. Even Alice began clapping in awe even though she was up in the balcony.

"Wow," she said, turning back to me. "Pretty impressive dancing they do in this place. How'd you find it?"

I sipped my wine and set it back down on the table. "Latina chick I dated," I said. "We met on a shoot and it turned out she was a dancer as well. She used to come here a lot. Actually, she's here now. That's her, down there."

"Here?" Alice's face changed slightly as I mentioned the presence of an ex-girlfriend, the subtlest hint of jealousy and anxiety as if perhaps all it might take is this fortuitous meeting for me to go running back into her arms. She looked over the railing to see the woman I had pointed out and her eyes went even stiller as she laid them on a Spanish beauty who at the moment was expertly twirling on the floor in a whirl of dark hair and red dress at a velocity that swept her skirts into a sexy flare about her full brown thighs.

"Her name's Carmen," I said. "I noticed her before, but we haven't seen each other in a while, so I didn't bother saying hi."

Alice nodded, seemingly set at ease a little. She glanced again at the woman down there on the dancefloor and then she turned back to me. "Wow," she said. "She's pretty good."

"She's a pro."

"Wow," she repeated. "So, um…how long did you date? Was it serious?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No. To be honest, we never really dated. We just…had a little fun together, I guess."

"I see."

There was a slight hint of disapproval in her voice that made me smile. I gestured with a hand airily and thought to explain myself. "I've always been somewhat…open minded when it comes to relationships," I said. "It's always been easier for me to simply go along with whatever the other person wants. If she only wants to have fun, I can do that. And if she wants something more serious, I can do that too. I've never been one to nurture expectations. I'm very…flexible, you might say."

She smiled at the word flexible but it didn't really distract her. "Which do you prefer, though?" she asked. "A real relationship, or…?"

"I prefer whatever makes my date happy."

"But what makes YOU happy?"

The question took me somewhat by surprise and the answer made me chuckle to myself. Ass. That's what made me happy. Boobs too. But that probably wasn't what she wanted to hear, since the purpose of her question had obviously been to determine whether or not I'm relationship material. So I shrugged loosely and gestured again with my hand.

"Let's just say I'm more than eager to embrace a long term relationship if one should ever present itself," I said.

That seemed to satisfy her. She nodded and smiled. "Well, no pressure, but…I'm kind of looking for long term too."

She admitted it with a blush. As if it wasn't completely obvious. "Then I guess we're on the same page," I said, and then I stood up from the table and smoothed down my dress. We had finished our dinner and our drinks and now it was time to dance. I offered her my hand. "Come on, let's dance. I'll teach how to Cha Cha."

"Cha Cha?"

"Mmhm. With hips like them, you were absolutely _born_ to Cha Cha."

She giggled and took my hand to stand up.

Alice was a quick learner, mostly due to her natural grace and childlike enthusiasm. Operating in heels was no challenge whatsoever for her, and it was only a matter of teaching her the steps and the timing. One, two, cha cha cha. She had a natural sense of rhythm as well. Giggling and smiling. Her pretty face brightened from the exercise. Every now and then she would let out a whoop and bust something out, watching the other couples and copying their moves. She did twirls and twists. She let me dip her in my arms and fling her back up. Laughing. Having fun. Her technique was very sloppy but she made up for it with raw energy and excitement. I had my hands at her hips, guiding their movements, and at every moment I was fighting back the urge to force my mouth on hers and ravish her right there on the floor.

We stopped for drinks and came back and I suppose it was only a matter of time until we bumped into Carmen. She recognized me right away and interrupted the dance with a shriek of delight, a hug, and an insistence for me to introduce Alice—who didn't look all that pleased to be interrupted, least of all by an old girlfriend of mine. But she smiled as I introduced her as my girlfriend and Carmen shook her hand and introduced her own dance partner, a tall gay latino dude who was only a friend. He wore a purple shirt made of shimmering satin, unbuttoned to the waist to reveal a waxed chest, and he also seemed to be wearing light mascara along with just a hint of makeup to enhance his chiselled cheekbones. Quite a hunk in my eyes, and even Alice might've stuttered a little as she shook his hand and tried not to stare. His name was Enrique, which struck me as highly stereotypical, and he seemed quite enraptured with Alice and Alice's dress, showering her with compliments and making her blush until he decided he simply must dance with her. Alice was delighted to accept, even though this left me with Carmen. Carmen smiled and put her hand in mine and her lips seemed even fuller and redder than I remembered them. She was wearing a particularly sexy perfume and she was taller than Alice with much longer hair and much larger boobs. But all it would take was a glance at Alice in Enrique's arms, smiling and turning and twisting her little hips in that short pink dress, to make me remember what I really wanted.

The four of us danced in close proximity, close enough to talk, and we exchanged partners a few times so that I danced a bit with Enrique and Alice danced a bit with Carmen. She didn't seem to like Carmen too much although Carmen didn't really endear herself with her haughty attitude and dark Spanish beauty. Enrique's boyfriend was close by as well, clad in a lime green shirt and moussed black hair. He had come to claim back his boyfriend for himself but he too seemed to fall in love with Alice's bouncy pinkness and soon they were sharing her between themselves, twirling her back and forth and calling her chica and mamacita and making her giggle. Meanwhile, Carmen was getting quite sultry with me and Alice didn't seem to notice. Carmen kept looking into my eyes and licking her lips. It turned me on, quite honestly. Perhaps some old sparks were reigniting here after all.

Finally I told Alice that I had to use the bathroom and I'll be right back. The restrooms were in the back and not quite empty. There were two other girls repairing their makeup in the mirror over the sink and I sidled in beside them, opening my purse and taking out my lipstick. It was only a few moments before the door opened again and Carmen came up behind me in the mirror. She took out her own lipstick and began doing her own lips, the two of us side by side in the mirror, both dark haired and clad in red dresses but her tanned and me much the paler.

"She's pretty, that girl your with," Carmen said by way of conversation. What she left unspoken was that she herself was much sexier. Which was true from a technical standpoint, I suppose. I didn't reply, just smiled, and she added: "How come you didn't say hi earlier? You weren't happy to see me?"

"I'm here with a date," I said. "I didn't even know you were going to be here."

"Does she get jealous, your little Alice?"

"Actually, she does."

Carmen seemed pleased to hear that. She pursed her lips at the mirror in a kiss and capped her lipstick. "She doesn't seem much like your type," she said. "She seems very…sweet."

"I like sweet."

"I thought you liked a woman with spice?"

The two other chicks were chatting among themselves and now they left the restroom. A flare of music came in as the door was pushed open and lapsed quiet again as the door swung closed. Carmen glanced at the empty restroom, realizing we were alone, and turned back to me with a bold smile. She had a hand on her hip and she was clearly making an offer. I smiled and cupped her face with one hand and placed a very deliberate kiss on her shiny red lips.

"Give me a call sometime if you want to get together," I said. "It's not really serious between me and Alice."

I then gave her a wink and sauntered back out into the club. I wasn't overly interested in her but I thought I'd better keep my options open. A girl's gotta eat, after all.

It was getting late by now and the lights over the dancefloor had dimmed as the DJ slowed the tempo. I did a brief scan of the dancefloor but I couldn't find Alice. Enrique and his boyfriend were composing a slow dance together in the sultry light, grinding each other's hips and staring into each other's eyes. I suppose Alice had wanted to give them a moment alone. I looked up at our table on the alcove over the dancefloor but she wasn't there either. The only other place left to check was the bar and there she was, sitting on a stool all pink and pretty. She had ordered a cocktail for herself and she was sipping it while watching the dancers. She had ordered me one as well and she smiled as I came up.

"Hey," she said. "This place is so neat. There's lots of same-sex couples, aren't there?"

I nodded, sitting on a stool beside her. "Lots of bi-chicks and gay guys."

"No lesbians?"

"I think you'd find more lesbians on a softball field than a place like this."

She giggled and sipped her drink. The liquid was green and thick like cream. I still hadn't touched mine. I looked out across the floor and noticed Enrique and his boyfriend Alejandro. They were really going at it. I smiled and turned back to Alice.

"Enrique and Alejandro seemed to really like you," I said. "I was almost worried. Carmen said they usually only have eyes for each other."

Alice smiled with pride and set her shoulders haughtily. "Well, they just never danced with a real woman before," she said.

I chuckled. She seemed slightly drunk, not so much from alcohol but just from having fun. It occurred to me that I was glad she was having fun. Not because it meant she would be more likely to put out, but just because it made me happy to see her smile.

"Actually," she went on, "that was the first time I've danced with a guy since senior prom. It was a relief to know he wouldn't try to cop a feel or tell me he loves me."

"You dated guys in highschool?"

"Not really, we only went as friends. On my side, at least."

"So you've never been with a guy before?"

"Does that matter?"

"No. But I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't make you more attractive to me."

She smiled and hesitated for a moment. Then she shrugged. "There was a time when I considered trying it with a guy," she said. "Not really as an experiment, just for the experience. I mean, I always knew I preferred girls. I was never confused or anything. But in the end, I decided not to. I've known other girls who tried it just for the sake of trying it and they always regreted it."

I nodded and smiled. And true to my word, she was suddenly much more attractive to me. She sipped her drink and I watched her. My throat was beginning to throb and I couldn't wait to wrap my tongue all around her cute, gorgeous, stainless little body.

"Actually, I was out of the closet by middle school," she went on. "In many ways I was really lucky. I kissed my bestfriend and she actually liked me. Well. For a little while."

She smiled wistfully and gave a little shrug of her bare shoulder. I smiled as well.

"At least you learnt early never to date a straight chick," I said.

"Yeah, I guess. It was pretty sad though. I really liked her. I suppose that's the root of my intimacy issues. Right from the beginning, it's always the same story. There's been a lot of girls who liked me but it never lasts very long. They always lose interest or meet someone else. Sometimes I just don't understand it. I mean, I'm cute, right?"

"You're adorable."

"So how come I can't keep a girlfriend?"

The question actually seemed kind of genuine, as if she really did want to figure it out. But I already knew the answer and with a smile I placed my hand on her knee and caressed it to draw her eyes to mine.

"I know exactly why," I said.

"Why then?"

I smiled and spoke very softly and deliberately. "Because there's a lot of shallow bitches out there who wouldn't know perfection if it was standing in front of them named Alice."

A smile grew on her mouth. A blush lit up her face. She took a sip of her drink to hide how incredibly flattered she was and said: "Yeah. Maybe."

I released her knee and looked out over the dancefloor. The music had changed again, a gentle ballad of bongos and acoustic guitar over sultry Spanish vocals. I smiled and turned back to Alice.

"Do you know what song that is?" I asked.

She looked excited and shook her head. "No."

"It's a Rumba. The dance of lust."

"Lust, huh?"

"Mmhm," I murmured, offering my hand. "Care to dance?"

She looked at the dancefloor. By now the couples had moved into rhythm and unlike the Cha Cha, the Rumba was a much slower and more methodical dance. Alice seemed to get shy again. "I'm not sure if I can," she said.

But she had put her hand in mine anyway and I tugged her gently to her feet.

"You'll be fine," I said, smiling. "Just follow my lead."

—

That danced turned out to be our last dance of the evening. It was midnight by then, and the lights were dark, and we had both had a few drinks, and the dance was slow and close and I twirled her out and twirled her back in and she wrapped a leg around me as I hooked my hand under her knee and gazed into her eyes. She touched my face and smiled and I twirled her out again and back into my arms so that her back was pressed against my front. I held her around the waist as she rubbed her ass against my pelvis tauntingly and I nuzzled her neck and moaned softly and whispered in her ear if she wanted to get out of here. She did.

It was a short drive back to her apartment and we stumbled through her bedroom door, lips locked, tangled in each other's arms, kicking off our shoes. We collapsed onto her bed, still in our dresses, and she wrapped her bare legs around me with a tightness and eagerness that drove me crazy. She was almost whimpering from how much she wanted it and I was almost growling. Her mouth was loose and warm and my tongue was swimming inside it, making her moan and groan and buck her little hips against the front of my dress. I rubbed myself against her and finally my lips lowered to her neck. She threw her head back and moaned, exposing the skin there and the skin there was hot and flushed and crackling with electricity under my lips. I could feel the throb of her pulse and tonight, finally…

"Mmm," she moaned. "Oh god. Oh god, I'm so ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Oh god yes."

I stroked back her hair to look into her eyes. I'm not sure why. She said she was ready. That meant it was okay. But there was something in her eyes that made me pause. Something that caused a strange pang in my chest where my heart should've been. It wasn't hesitation in her eyes, it wasn't uncertainty. It was…

…Trust?

Yes. It was trust in her eyes, mingled among the lust and longing and aching desire for me to lick her up. Trust that I was going to treat her properly and date her properly and perhaps one day even love her properly. Trust that everything I said was true. But it wasn't true. I was nothing like she thought I was. I was…

She pulled me down into a kiss and now it was her own tongue that came swarming into my mouth. I returned the kiss feverishly, pushing my hips into hers, causing her to wrap her legs around me even tighter and lock them at the ankles. She moaned again and dug her fingernails into my back, seemingly even more desperate than I was.

"Oh god," she groaned. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long."

"It wasn't really that long."

"I know, but it sure feels like it. I'm sorry. I just had to be sure."

Our mouths had separated and she was already panting heavily. By contrast, I wasn't breathing at all. A very strange feeling had come over me and I didn't quite know what it was.

"Sure about what?" I asked.

She grinned and chuckled as if I was being silly. "About you," she said. "About how much you like me. About whether or not I can trust you not to hurt me."

Ah. So that's what that feeling was.

Guilt.

It wasn't something I felt often. In fact, this was perhaps the first time. It was very mild, of course. Perhaps only the awareness of guilt. But it was there. I could feel it. Like when a cloud passes over the sun. Something not quite right, not quite _perfect_.

She still had her legs around me and she gave an awkward chuckle at how I had drifted off.

"I mean, you do like me, right?"

"Yes," I said, snapping out of it. "I like you a lot. I just…"

"Just what?"

I blinked.

I had no idea.

Her legs loosened and I found myself getting off her, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. That feeling in my chest wasn't going away and it actually seemed to overpower the hunger. I put a hand in my hair, truly not understanding what was happening. I had been so close. All I had to do was kiss her and tell her what she wanted to hear and feast for the rest of the night on her glorious little body.

And yet…

"Hey," she said, kneeling beside me on the mattress in concern. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, but…"

I turned to look at her. She cocked her head. I laughed to myself at how ridiculous I was being.

"It's nothing," I said. "I just want you to be really sure, that's all. I mean, it's only been two weeks. Can you really be sure about me after only two weeks?"

She smiled in confusion. "I don't understand. You want to wait longer?"

"No, no, no," I blurted with a chuckle. "Of course I don't want to wait. I never wanted to wait to begin with. Trust me, there's nothing I want more than…you."

She smiled brightly. I sighed at how cute she was and cupped her face with one hand.

"But like I said, I really like you," I told her softly. "And I'm afraid of…hurting you."

A single chuckle came out of her as she nuzzled my hand with her cheek. "How would you hurt me?"

I dropped my hand and looked down. Well, I cheated on her last night with Victoria. And a few nights before that with Rosalie. And with Leah as well, who happened to be an underage teenager. Heck, even tonight I told Carmen to call me sometime with the full intention of cheating on Alice again. If she found out about any of those she would be more than hurt. She deserved to know what she was getting involved with but I decided that maybe a subtle hint to my true nature would be more appropriate than a full confession.

"I don't know," I said. "It's just, I don't have the best history with relationships. Back at the club, I said I was flexible. But in truth, I think I might be just shallow and superficial. To be honest, I've never been in love in my life."

"Never?"

"No."

Her eyebrows came together in a puzzled frown. She still didn't really understand what I was saying, but then again, even I didn't have a clue. I snorted to myself, realizing that I had completely sabotaged any chance of getting any ass tonight, and shook my head.

"I just felt I should warn you," I said, giving her a soft and self-deprecating smile. "If you're worried about being hurt…dating someone like me might be risky."

"Well, all relationships are a risk. I mean…"

"I know," I told her, cupping her face again. "I just don't want to hurt you."

She looked into my eyes, trying to understand. Finally she took my hand from her face and held it in her lap. She looked down at it for a moment, as if she read nothing in my eyes and maybe might have better luck with my palm, and then she chuckled and looked up.

"I'm not sure where this is all coming from," she said. "Is it my fault for wanting to wait? I mean, I never meant to make you think I was some kind of delicate flower. I'm a big girl. All I needed to know was if you're interested in something serious. No one can predict if it's going to work out or not, but as long as we're both serious, then at least we'll have the opportunity to find out. Right?"

"I guess."

"And you_ are_ interested in something serious, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said, because I knew I couldn't afford any hesitation. But in reality what I was really interested in was getting her panties off. That's about it. But if that was true, why did I stop myself? Why did I—

She smiled at my reply and giggled once. She was still caressing my hand in her lap and she gave it a little pat. "Well, that's all I can reasonably ask for. The rest is up to fate. Let's not go crazy about it, okay?"

I nodded and smiled as well. "I'm sorry," I said. "I guess that was just a long winded way of admitting I have commitment issues. I thought it was only fair to let you know. Before we go any further."

"Well, thanks. It's nice you care about me enough to be upfront. Although you did kind of ruin the date."

"I did, didn't I? I'm sorry."

She giggled and fell silent. She was still holding my hand in her lap. The mood was dead, the corpse was practically laying on the carpet. I sighed and looked at her.

"So what do you think?" I said. "Are you still interested in me?"

She grinned and gave my hand a vigorous squeeze. "Of course I am. In fact, I think I'm more interested in you now than ever. After all, by admitting all this, it only proves that you really are serious. Right?"

I went thoughtful at that. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps I did care about her more than I cared about getting a piece of her ass. Which was almost an insult to the poor girl, considering how terrific her ass was. She patted my hand one last time and released it.

"So let's just take it slow and see how it goes, okay?"

"Are you sure you want to take a chance on me?"

"Positive," she said, and then she flung her arms around my neck and pulled me into a kiss. She fell back against the pillow and I once again settled between her legs, feeling them wrap around me and tighten and squeeze my body. The hunger began to throb anew in my stomach but I knew there would be no dessert tonight. At the first break in the kiss I smiled at her and stroked her face.

"But I guess this means no sex tonight, huh?"

She smirked. "Well, the moment is kind of ruined."

"Drat."

She giggled and tightened her legs around me playfully. "Tell you what," she said, "why don't we have a couple more dates and if we're still together we can get a nice expensive hotel room and maybe even spend the weekend somewhere. That way it'll be really special. What do you think?"

The suggestion caused a slow well of excitement to rise up inside me. Alice, all to myself for an entire weekend. Maybe this mini-confession wasn't such a bad idea after all. I stroked her face a little more, gazing into her gorgeous eyes, and said: "I think that sounds perfect."

Then I lowered my lips onto hers and kissed her. She moaned and wrapped her arms around me.

—


End file.
